


Secrets

by chickenfried



Series: Who We Are, What We Do [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst?, Canon Divergent, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mild Gore, Past Child Abuse, Polyamory, Sexual Content, almost everyone is bi/pan oops, canon murders, let me know if there's anything else I should tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenfried/pseuds/chickenfried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't really even lies of omission.  They just never talked about the basics of their lives outside of the hotel room.  That one was a criminal and the other worked for the police.<br/>OR<br/>Leonard is too distracted by Barry to notice he's the Flash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which nothing is resolved. Continues from the end of A Leap of Something. Really, that's the better ending, but I hope y'all like this too.

>Sam Holt is out of surgery. In a stable condition for now.

  
Len hadn't been expecting to hear from Barry so quickly. He received the text only eight hours after a one-sided goodbye.

A bouquet is on the table next to where Len is sitting and the peruvian lilies in it remind him of Lisa's old figure skating recitals. He bought one every time she performed, and even though she'd blush and call him embarrassing, she'd always leave the flowers on the window sill until they were so  decayed that their dad noticed of the smell and throw them out.  He'd stopped buying them when Lewis broke the vase and Lisa cut her foot on the shards.  She stopped skating then too.

Len's relationship with Barry was not planned expected or accounted for. It was something he'd been thrust into unprepared- due to his sisters meddling. His plans had gone off the rails, as they do whenever Lisa is involved. Even clean and sober Snarts' modus operandi don't change. And even weeks later, Len is weak enough to let the momentum carry.

His heist had been thwarted by the streak, one of his men had shot a guard and then deserted. He should be fully focused on creating a contingency plan that included all obstacles. The thrill of an unfamiliar challenge should be coursing fully through him instead of swirling restlessly in a corner of his brain. After spending so much time looking into accounts of the streak, the _man_ , he should have taken him into consideration. He'd been distracted. Still is distracted.

The message is lit up on his cellphone, the one he'd planned to ditch at the end of this godforsaken heist, bright against the dim lighting of the warehouse. All the other living members of his crew had long since left the warehouse. Len can smell the perfume of the flowers mixing with the dank steel odor of the room. Blood is slowly coagulating under John Kaliemos, still on the floor.

After piecing together that Barry was referring to the man that was shot that afternoon, Len should be thinking of how he'd known it was him and not how he should respond to the text. He distracts himself by disposing of the would be deserter- there was no need to make a spectacle of him, anyone that mattered knew his reputation already. The thought that Barry was among of them was an unpleasant one.

He hadn't fooled himself into thinking he could continue his relationship, whatever it was, with Barry. Barry wouldn't stay interested in someone like him without being payed to. But it would have been nice to have someone that had actually liked him.

Someone smart. That talked to Len about ridiculous and inconsequential things like honey bee pheromones and the likelihood that bigfoot exists. That inspired him to pick up things like _The American Journal of Fluid Dynamics_ , not because it was describing something that could be fenced for a very high profit, but because he was actually interested in it.

Someone brave. Not only with their bodily safety (and Len did not like the idea of Barry's other clients), but with his emotions. Barry put himself out there with next to nothing to gain, expecting to be rejected.

Someone caring. That would stop for a stranger in an alley. That loved his father after years of separation. And wasn't it funny that they were so similar and so very different.

Almost two thirds of his jobs were executed anonymously with no concrete proof tying him to the crimes. He seems doubly unlucky on this one, seeing as if the Flash had told the police who he was, Santini would no doubt come sniffing if he didn't work fast. And that was another problem he should have dealt with sooner.

Len hadn't run any background checks on the man that had shared his bed the past month- it had seemed an invasion of privacy. Even now Len feels a twinge of guilt when he pulls up files on Bartholomew Allen. He'd given Len his real name. And he had a very incongruous second job. He thinks that Barry's explanation of "work accident" for a smoking shirt makes a lot more sense. Maybe.

>>so you're a CSI

The response comes back in seconds.

>Is that why Lisa picked me?

It's far from a ridiculous idea, even if untrue. Len doesn't owe Barry anything, shouldn't even be contacting him.

>>No. Is that why you’re texting me?

He hasn't even done anything to Barry except shatter whatever naive assumptions he'd made about what kind of man Len is. Really, Barry was the suspicious one here. A government employee that sells sex on the side?

>>She thought that I would like you and I did.

>>I try to keep my professional and personal boundaries separate.

>Is that some kind of dig?

>>No

>Because I have a lot to say about your PROFESSION.

>>Fun fact: soliciting sex was decriminalized only four months ago.

>And murders next? Fuck you.

Len thinks about John Kaliemos. The man who shot the guard, tried to back out, and Len disposed of a few minutes ago. He doesn't feel anything but vague chagrin that he has to deal with this situation in the first place. Everyone he worked with knew what they were getting into when they got in bed with Leonard Snart. And it's not like the police had ever formally charged him for suspected crimes.

>>I’m a thief.

>Shooting people?

>>Occupational hazard.

It doesn't matter what Barry thinks of his rap sheet. Barry's opinion of him doesn't matter. He's not going to point out that he's never killed (been implicated in the killing of) any innocents or police officers, even when the latter were fully deserving.

>>People die. Everything that is alive dies. It’s how the world works.

For years, the excitement of running a heist had been waning. He was smarter than everyone else, more experienced, and it had begun to feel pointless. Looking at Barry asleep in their bed that morning had made him even less interested in the job he'd been about to pull. And now, with the thrill of something new, someone _extraordinary_ , he was still stuck on Barry. But Barry isn't responding. And Len doesn't regret his honesty in that last text- his phone lights up again, but it's only a notification.   _The Streak Lives_ has updated their blog and as Len reads about his own exploits, his mind starts buzzing and he can feel an excited grin on his face.

When Nurbin shows him the heat gun he can't help, but think of Mick. Something he had been trying not to do. He knew he'd steal everything the man had the second he showed him that, was planning it out as Nurbin went on about S.T.A.R. labs. When he shows him the cold gun everything falls into place. He shoots Nurbin perfunctorily. It's just good business. The same way someone would kill him someday. Unless he pissed some one smarter than him off enough to make it a bit more drawn out.

 

The idea of someone like the streak offends him on principle- having all of that power and _not_ stealing was a crime of inaction. But what makes him _hate_ the Flash is his self righteousness. Len has met his share of do gooder hero types and they are invariably the kind of people that can justify anything as long as _they_ are the ones doing it.  

The first Len had heard of the streak had actually been from Lisa, before all the Darbinyans were mysteriously poisoned.

It's interesting to see her interact with Sinclair and her girlfriend- as Lisa was more the type for disposable friendly acquaintances than actual friends. Lisa seemed somewhat bemused when she invited him to see her off at Saints and Sinners. He'd been surprised but pleased to see Barry talking with his sister as he hadn't heard from him in the past few days. Luckily, Barry seemed just as happy to see him as Len was. Lisa pulled him to the bar and the buoyant feeling in his chest sank to his gut. He hated seeing her drunk. Marcy put a mixed drink and a tumbler of scotch on the counter for them, without greeting, then moved on to break up a fight that looked like it was about to escalate.

Lisa took a long sip of the mixed drink.

"So do you like him?"

Len frowned down at her. "Yes."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "It's a coke. Just coke."

"I didn't say anything." But he can't deny the relief he felt that he wasn't going to spend the night with her buzzed. Lisa forcibly shoved down her automatic reaction. Len didn't know what to do, what to say. Things had been strained, strange, and uncomfortable between them for too long.

"Come on, let's see whose better at pool now."

Len followed her with the corners of his lips pulled up. Despite how much it hurt, they loved, or maybe needed each other too much to stop trying. No one understands you like a sibling.

"So, something weird happened last night," Lisa said the words triumphantly, after winning the lag. Len gracefully had not pointed out that the table was dented in her favor.

Len resisted the urge to groan. She had better not have had another run in with Santinis. "What kind of weird?"

"Drug induced hallucinations weird. Not mine." She smirked at him. "I went to deal with some trash and found that someone had already paid him a visit." She struck the cue ball hard enough to gut someone, and the balls rolled apart with a series of loud cracks. Always the drama queen, his little sister. "Someone this guy thought was an actual god. Said he teleported him out of the city and told him to stay away from women."

"Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him something. What did you do with the guy?"

Lisa lines up her stick. "Oh you know I don't kill crazies." Her aim was well calculated, sank her chosen stripe and set her up nicely for her next shot. "I just kneecapped him a little." Unfortunately, the dented table worked against her that time.

Len sighed and made his own calculations, accounting for the uneven surface. Lisa had been taught by their father as well, she knew how to cover her tracks.  The game isn't serious, but they both gave it their best effort in deference to the sanctity of sibling rivalry.

"Looks like I'm still better little sis."

Lisa pouted. "What a jerk. At least you'll never beat me at darts." True. Her aim would be frightening if he wasn't so proud.

Lisa's smile dropped and the glint in her eyes dulled. "I've missed you."

It hurt less to see her like this- solemn but genuine. Len knew he'd regret the words the second they were out his mouth. He looked at the dent in the table.

"Then come home."

Lisa looks anywhere but him. "I like my job. And you of all people should understand the need to get away."

"You're right."

She laughs, bright, cute, and fake. "It looks like you'll have someone to keep you company while I'm gone." Her gaze stuck on Barry, smiling at Wu and Sinclair.

"I don't know." Barry was a nice, easy, distraction.  Or should have been.

"I saw the way that boy was looking at you. Since when were you cheap?"

Len leveled an icy look at her.

Lisa was, of course, undeterred. "Do I have to do all the work for you?"

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her head against his shoulder. Kill anyone who had ever done her wrong. Len huffed and pulled on a strand of her hair. "I can tell when you're trying to get rid of me. Call me if you start any trouble you can't deal with on your own."

Lisa leaned against his shoulder for half a second. "Love you too asshole."

She was 34. Could take care of herself even when she was 16, fucking shit up for everyone involved, high out of her mind. Maybe he could afford a distraction.

 

When Barry asked to see him- to spend time with him because he wanted to- Len was shocked. Barry wasn't the greatest actor and Len was very skilled in reading people. Barry didn't mind having sex with him. That was the extent.

Len didn't have relationships. Didn't have friends outside of Lisa and occasionally Mick. But being the first man he slept with, Len had gotten irrationally attached to Barry. He had always assumed sleeping with a man would be similar to sleeping with women and it was. But the thrill of power was new. Feeling somehow righteous and free, touching another man that way, holding him in his arms. Len had wanted to extend the feeling. So he'd said yes.

He almost regretted it. Letting Barry leave the money. Before they started seeing each other voluntarily, as _friends_ , Len was paying him to be thee so he was safe. Len hadn't felt anxious about him. But in addition to the strange case of nerves, he also felt better. Like when he was lying on that hotel bed, surrounded by pale blue lights, listening to Sam Cooke with an incredible man in his arms, there because he liked Len. Wanted to be with him.  Len hadn't wanted to leave.  Felt something unfamiliar in his chest when he looked down on the man sleeping in their bed.  But first and foremost he was a thief.  Not wanting to disturb his sleep, and avoiding an actual goodbye, Len wrote a note and grabbed one of the bouquets on a whim.  They had been for him after all.  The first time anyone gave him flowers.  Len ran a hand down Barry's unshaven cheek and left.

Barry has an idealized view of the police- like they're not exactly like anyone else only looking out for themselves but under the blanket excuse of protect and serve. Len had quite purposefully never harmed an officer. Still, it would probably one of those fuckers that ends up shooting him in the back. Some backwards inherited karma.

 

It's always nice when bait catches. The cold gun is a convenience when dealing with the police, but dealing with the streak. Oh, it was a treasure. Len had already accepted that this man could do the impossible, but it was still an incredible thing to witness. Yellow lightning racing to where ever he pointed, the man in red running faster than his eyes could track. Len's heart is racing in excitement, breath slow and measured. He spins to the man walking down the isle, pulls the trigger, and watches the colors soar. He hears Barry shout, "No!" Desperate and pleading.

It takes Len precious seconds to look back to the other room. He shouldn't have looked in the first place. Why would Barry be there? The streak is curled over the body of the frozen employee.  He hadn't been trying to kill the attendant per say, but he doesn't regret it. People die, it's what they do. The tight feeling in his chest is excitement and he only heard Barry because he spent so much time with him recently. Not because he knew that Barry would never forgive him for this.

There are no new messages on his phone, and like every time he's checked he feels a bit more hollow. Len could call him. Could show up on his doorstep. But Len knew that he'd never be with him again. Not now that he really knew him. Len brushes a finger against the clay vase of his bouquet.

It's more difficult to lie to himself with a gun resting on the back of his skull. Maybe he should have made an example of Kaliemos. When the rest of his backstabbing crew has left, Len slams a fist into the table. It's a stupid, pointless, brutish thing to do, but Len never did claim to have fallen too far from the tree.

Being true to himself has always been something Len's prided himself in. When he came to terms with his sexuality himself he'd wasted no time letting his, for lack of a better word, _colleagues_ know about his proclivities. Honestly got a little glee from the idea that Lewis would hear about it in prison. Even if he had slipped up and allowed himself to care about someone other than his baby sister, he wasn't going to pretend to be someone else.

Len is a bad person, _enjoys_ being a bad person, and the streak is fun.  Barry shouldn't even be a consideration.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris may have a thing for blue eyed blondes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support! A lot of this will have dialogue from various episodes scattered throughout.

"Excuse me, _miss_ ," a forty-something woman calls out, sharp and loud over the din of customers. She's cut ahead of the few patrons waiting in line and has a very irate look on her face. The man who was at the front of the line opens his mouth, fists balled, and the young barista alone at the cash register looks helplessly between them.

Iris sighs.  It's two minutes past when her shift ended and she'd been about to clock out. The angry woman has huge bags under her eyes and an overflowing briefcase. Iris smiles, conciliatory, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

The woman looks at her, stiff and aggressive. "I was already _helped_ twenty minutes ago, but about ten people were served before me."

Iris ignores the obvious exaggeration. "What was your order? I'll make sure to get it to you as fast as possible."

The woman looks about to cry. "Medium Americano with two extra shots of espresso."

Iris smiles one last time. "I'll be right back."

She clocks out, exactly five minutes after her shift is supposed to end, and whips through the Americano, one straight black, one decaf latte, and one spiced pumpkin. The woman thanks her perfunctorily and runs out the door. The young barista calls from the espresso machine, "You are a life saver. Thank you!"

Iris grins, "No problem Daisy.  Have a good night."

"You too!"

Eddie has been waiting at an empty table for the past ten minutes.  Iris walks over to him and and entangles their fingers together and kisses her. Iris leans into his chest for a moment before pulling away. Eddie grabs the drinks and they walk out the door hand in hand.

"I don't know how you do it," Eddie says, squeezing her fingers, "I thought dealing with the public was bad as a detective."

Iris laughs. "Every job has its pros and cons."

They stop in front of the precinct.  Iris grabs the coffee and hands one to Eddie.  "Case and point."

Eddie sighs, happy. "You spoil me."

"You're the one walking me to work on your day off. Besides, your coffee order is boring and easy."

"Like me?"

Iris smiles.  "Only one of those is true." She pulls him into another kiss.

Eddie looks down at her, and Iris will never get tired of the feeling that look in his eyes gives her. "Want me to come in with you?"

Iris snorts. "Uh, no. I think my dad needs a little more time before he sees us together."

At Eddie's plummeting expression she continues, "He'll come around. Eventually."

Today is not the day he comes around. But Iris can't regret telling her dad, not after the way Eddie kissed her when she told him she was going to.

Barry seems off too. Not that he hasn't since he'd woken up, but today he seems worse.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Barry takes a long sip of his latte. "I-" There's a girl in his lab, with glasses and a blonde ponytail, staring up at the skylight. When the door opens she turns to look at them and Iris notices that her eyes are blue, less grey than Eddie's. She smiles at Barry, then Iris, bright and pink.

"Hi. Felicity Smoak." Iris can't help but smile back.

"Iris West."

"Barry Allen."

Wow, Barry was really off today, but he seems genuinely happy to see Felicity. Iris touches Barry's arm. "Call me later, if you want."

Barry smiles at her, seeming a little overwhelmed. Iris looks to Felicity, who's looking around his lab with the interest of someone who actually understands everything they're looking at. They smile at each other, friendly and genuine.

"It's good to meet you."

Iris finds Officer Radich in the break room downstairs. He smiles at her from where he's doing a cross word puzzle at the table.

"Is that for me?"

"Sorry Mr. Radich. Not unless you've decided to branch out and try flavored drinks."

Radich's nose scrunches, deepening the wrinkles on his face. Iris laughs and sits down across from him. "I guess you're daddy's still mad about Detective pretty boy."

Iris groans. "I came here for a different kind of gossip."

"With nothing to bribe me with?"

"What, free coffee whenever you come in isn't good enough? How about a lifetime of friendship."

Radich chuckles. "Your lifetime maybe. What's a six letter word for absence? Starts with a D."

It takes her a moment.  "Dearth."

Radich frowns and fills in the answer. "Officers Gibbons and Doyle were the first responders to the attempted robbery."

Iris corners Doyle as he's heading out the door.

"How do you feel about pumpkin lattes?"

 

Iris had felt like her heart was going to expand out of her chest when she read that someone had messaged _her_ after seeing the streak. A real life super hero was in their city. Something impossible was happening, the stuff Barry had always believed in, and Iris was going to make sure the rest of the world believed as well.

 

Barry calls that night and her dad (who apparently knew about Barry's love life???) invites him over, but Iris ends up at Barry's place instead. Barry's cheap, cramped apartment that smelled slightly like mothballs no matter how much she aired the place out. Those conditions were why Iris hadn't moved out yet. Barry seems to be in some weird kind of fugue state, but Iris had come prepared.  Ice cream, brownies, and tea could make anyone feel better but in the worst of situations.  She leaves Barry to his slump on his lumpy couch to get the boiling kettle.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Barry pulls his knees up to his chest. "You were right. About Len."

Iris hadn't pushed earlier and doesn't now, despite how worried she'd been about him and this man she'd never met and knew nothing about. Barry had never been comfortable discussing romantic relationships with her. She sets the tea on the table and sits down so that their shoulders are touching.

"He turned out to be a bad person."

Iris wraps an arm around his shoulders. "Do you need me to go punch him?"

Barry laughs, but it sounds a little strangled. "No. I don't want to think about him at all."

And Iris feels so bad for Barry's timing. A cute blonde comes to visit from 500 miles away and he's in the middle of a breakup. "Are you okay with Felicity visiting now?"

Barry looks almost comically shocked by the question. "Of course! Felicity's great and its nice to keep my mind off things."

Iris nods and jumps up.

"So, Dance Moms or Cupcake Wars?"

 

Eddie's really not excited about trivia night, but Iris strong arms him into coming along anyway. If Barry wanted distractions, Iris could do distractions. And _wow_. Felicity is distracting. Iris really hoped that Barry would manage to hold onto her. She really wouldn't mind seeing more of Felicity.

"Feel free to buy that dress," Eddie whispers in her ear. Iris laughs, but can't help feeling uncomfortable. Even if she is trying to set Felicity and Barry up, she still finds Felicity attractive.

It's dumb because she would never cheat, but Iris feels guilty. She'd come to terms, _liked_ the idea of polyamory before she even left high school. But she'd never talked to anyone she was close with about it. It wasn't something her dad needed to know when she wasn't serious about anyone and Barry had never liked talking about that kind of stuff with her. She'd been emotionally distraught and incredibly busy when she started dating Eddie. She hadn't even _thought_ about anyone else while they were together and it just never came up.  Until now.

Of course, after this revelation somehow Iris and Felicity end up at Jitters alone. Felicity is sweet, geeky, incredibly smart, and has a little trouble with her brain to mouth filter. Iris finds this unfortunately charming. When Iris actually gets a question right (who came up with the principle of linguistic relativity?) Felicity gives her a high five. She's not even condescending about it. And she obviously appreciates Barry for how amazing he really is.

Iris is almost jealous of how perfect they are for each other. Dissecting _what_ or  _who_ she's jealous of is a bit above her mental capacity for the night.

Iris is already feeling down when she goes home, and finally getting the real reason why her dad doesn't approve of Eddie makes her feel even worse. It was so frustrating living with someone so stubborn and controlling that Iris sometimes forgot that her dad might have good reasons to disapprove of what she's doing. But no matter how good his reasons, Iris is going to stay with Eddie. She'd conceded in a lot of disagreements in her past, but she couldn't do that anymore. Not with the important stuff.

Iris can't fall asleep and Barry doesn't stop by.  She gets up and starts writing. Resolves to make it up to her dad and talk to Eddie tomorrow.

 .

"Thank you."

Barry's stomach  _burned_ , pain so strong he could barely think, could barely feel the hurt in his chest, could barely see Cold, Snart,  _Len's_ face contorted in a teeth-baring grin.  Could barely process the words he'd said before, sweet and reverential, twisted into to something barbed and mocking.

He manages to keep his face blurred, and disguise his voice enough to spit out, "For what?"

"You forced me to up my game, not only with this gun, but with how I think about the job. It's been educational."

How could this be the same person?

.

The next night, Iris goes down to the station after seeing Snart on the news. Somehow, despite calling him a "fairy tale", her dad always managed to get on the cases the streak was involved in. Iris had come to term with the fact that her dad and Eddie's jobs put the in danger every day. Her mom had died young and Barry had almost died a thousand times this past year. She didn't really have any option but to accept that death was inevitable no matter how much you loved or needed someone.  It was one of the reasons Iris hadn't even considered that her dad might feel the way he did.

Her third apology goes much better than the previous three. Her dad actually says something that could imply tentative approval.  

"From now on, no more secrets," Iris says to herself and her father.  She feels light and giddy.

"No more secrets."

Iris is radiant with joy when she gets down to evidence. Eddie is alone so she's free to kiss him however she pleases. Eddie lifts her up and twirls her in his arms. They part laughing.

"I don't think this night could get any better," Eddie says. His smile is bright and happy and Iris is so relieved to see it.  He'd acted alright, but in the face of her dad's (his partner's) weeks long disapproval, he'd been struggling.

Iris bites her lip, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"My dad said to thank you for saving his life."

Sweaty and sated, they hold hands in bed, arms twisted together like cheesy dorks.  _Content_.

"So, Barry and Felicity?"

Eddie is not like most men in that he likes to talk after orgasm, instead of passing out.

Iris sighs, still riding her own high. "I hope so."

"You know I used to be scared you'd leave me for him."

Iris' jaw actually drops. She rolls over to watch Eddie's profile.  He's staring at the ceiling. 

"Barry? Why?"

"He knows you better, you're dad loves him. He's handsome, smart, nice."

Iris wrinkles her nose. She has _never_ considered Barry as a romantic partner.  "It sounds more like you're the one with a crush." 

"Ha ha."

"Come on, Eddie. You know my dating history. I don't judge," Iris teases.

Eddie turns so that they're facing each other.  "It's not that I wouldn't because he's a  _guy_. I'm with you, Iris. I wouldn't look at someone else."

Eddie's eyes are clear and honest and Iris feels like she's been punched in the gut. Iris West is not a coward. Or a liar.

She swallows. Squeezes his fingers and forces herself to meet his eyes when she says, "I don't know that it would be such a bad thing if you did." 

Neither of them move. Iris can feel her gut sinking, chest starting to ache, and she can't stop the words from spilling out of her mouth, seeing Eddie grow more and more horrified. "Look, this is the first time I've been with one person, exclusively-" "Do you want to see other people?"

Eddie's voice is hoarse. Near inflectionless. They're still holding hands and Iris' head is terribly, tragically blank.

Yes.

No.

She doesn't say either.

"I want to be with you."

And the words come rushing back like blood flow from a restarted heart. "To me, that's more important than being with anyone else. I would  _never_ cheat." Iris takes a deep breath through her nose. Continues,"I just don't think loving one person excludes you from having feelings for other people.  Or changes those feelings.  I'm not expecting you to want an open relationship, I just wanted to tell you how I think about this stuff."

By the time she's done talking Eddie looks slightly less heartbroken.  He squeezes her fingers, wraps his other arm around her, and pulls her closer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Iris? There will be at least one more chapter from her pov, maybe more if y'all're interested.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A truth comes out.

The article is a small blurb near the back of the Central City Citizen.

_Good Samaritan Donates 24,700_

It's the exact amount that catches his eye. The exact amount of cash he'd given Barry over their time together, excluding the money he'd returned. Len turns on the burner phone he really should have ditched weeks ago. There are no new messages. Len wants to call him, wants to ask why the fuck he went with him in the first place if he didn't need money, wants to ask if he really did need the money and was just too disgusted by Len to keep it. Wants to hear his voice.

There had been one innocent fatality from Len's actions in Central City. The streak had managed to save everyone but that one theater attendant. Tyler Martindale left behind a spouse, two year old daughter, two grieving parents, and friends that posted long memorial speeches on the deceased's facebook wall. Len would never have thought twice about it if Barry hadn't given all his money to the loved ones he left behind.

Len presses the power button with more force than necessary.

Len has had crushes on people before. Most notably a very ill-advised and bizarre interest in Mick Rory.  But none of them had been reciprocated or pursued.

He'd been doing his best to keep his mind off Barry. Seeing police cars pass by, eating meals, watching TV reminded Len of him. He couldn't even masturbate without thinking of him, and when he was done he invariably felt sad, embarrassed, and a little guilty. His thoughts race when he tries fall asleep, exhausted, chasing phantom thoughts in circles that keep spinning out of reach.

The only thing successfully distracting was thinking about the streak. The way Len feels about him is simple.

He wants to take him apart.

The hotel room he finds Mick Rory in is dark and sweltering. Len had read in the papers that he'd escaped from the ambulance (that Len had called), but he hadn't tried to track him down until this last month. Hadn't planned to try and find him at all.

"I know it's been a while since we pulled that job. I know it didn't go so well for you, and I know I said we were finished, but things have changed."

Their exact parting words had been along the lines of, "you impulsive asshole, we're done," and "fuck you Snart, I don't need your anal retentive shit. Everything's gonna burn-" cue slightly unhinged laughter. This was after Mick had set half a million dollars worth of lysergic acid diethylamide, and himself, on fire. Not their greatest moment.

Len knew he'd end up here the second he saw the heat gun. Although he tries his best, Len always has been a sucker for the people he cares about. Even if he'd never let them know it.

"If I want to keep working in Central City, I'm gonna need a new kind of crew. I'm gonna need someone like you. You're tolerant of extremes. You have certain skills. You just need some direction. And I can give that to you. You still like playing with fire? You're gonna love this. So are you in Mick? Or are you out?"

"Yeah buddy, I'm in."

 .

Things change after she tells Eddie, but not in a bad way. Eddie hasn't called her a slut or greedy or unfaithful, is instead looking speculative at odd moments and kissing her out of the blue.

Her dad is talking to her again, slowly coming around to the idea of Eddie and her together. Barry is straightening out from whatever weird leftovers his coma gave him, getting over his sort-of-maybe romance that didn't work out, and has actually made friends. Iris likes Caitlin and Cisco, feels like everything in life is finally settling down, turning out right.

Maybe it's because she was raised by someone close lipped, but Iris has always had an insatiable desire to get to the bottom things that interest her. Typically, these things never really aligned with what the people in her life were interested in. Iris was more curious about the why, where her dad and Barry looked into the what and how. It wasn't important whether or not Henry had killed Barry's mom. It was important that Barry believed he didn't. And Iris doesn't know why Barry is closing his eyes to the proof that he was _right_ this whole time, but she isn't going to let it stop her.

With a couple drinks in her and the joy of good company, Iris sneaks off to the bomb site. She actually _sees_ the man start to fall, the streak leaving him safe and unharmed on the ground.

He smiles at her and Iris is half in love with him. With what he represents- hope and heroism. Giving Barry's desperate scrambles to prove the surreal real validation. Freedom and anonymous good deeds.

Iris doesn't talk about the blog. She has a lifelong bad habit of not telling anyone about the things that are important to her. Like if she says them out loud they'll disappear like Cinderella's carriage. Instead she investigates and sneaks and whispers, "What if he is real?"

 

Of course when everything seems to be going well, the bubble has to pop. Officer Vukuvich tattles and her dad continues on to treat her like a misbehaving child. Iris manages to avoid a blow up fight through sheer force of will, but Barry comes from left field.

He corners her during her break at work.

"Why didn't you tell me about your blog?" Barry demands, looking grim.

Iris frowns, confused by his tone. "I don't know. You've been kind of busy lately."

Barry runs a hand over his face. "Take it from someone who's been investigating the impossible since they were eleven. Blogging about this is only gonna bring the crazies to your front door."

"Maybe I think this is worth it."

"He doesn't even exist."

"I saw him, Barry," as she says it, Iris realizes how much Barry needs to hear this. Maybe it would be enough to break him out of his denial.  

"He wears a red suit, like, a uniform or something, with a lighting bolt on his chest."

"I mean, Iris, come on. You were drinking last night at the bar."

Iris remembers the way Barry looked when he'd come home from the psychiatrist. Angry and helpless. Iris has a Master's degree in psychology.  She knows what gaslighting is. And Iris is so glad that Barry has friends like Cisco and Caitlin, because she knows he's going through a hard time, but that doesn't give him free reign to be a dick.

 

Although she could be stubborn and was certainly a hard worker, Iris couldn't really be called driven. She'd always admired that in Barry. How strongly he believed in what he knew to be true, how hard he worked to become renowned in his field at such a young age.

Iris had never had grand dreams or aspirations like that. When she graduated high school she applied to the police academy because her dad was a cop. And she let that go when he made such a huge fuss, so it couldn't have been that important to her. It took her until her third year of college to settle on a major, mostly because she just happened to take mostly psychology classes for GEs. Sure, Iris was interested in what made people tick, but she had no strong desire to study people or become a shrink. She'd been working the same job for five years, stayed in school even after Barry got struck by lightning and her world collapsed, dissertation with it, and still lived in her childhood home.

It's easy to get caught up in her job, making coffee and smiling at patrons like they're the most important thing in her life. Iris is good at customer service. It's easy to get caught up in school, going to classes, writing papers on subjects she could care less about. It's easy to get caught up in her her dad and Eddie and Barry.

It's hard to sort through various sightings, possible and obviously fake, of the mysterious red blur, it's hard to go through angry spiteful messages, it's hard being shot down and ridiculed by almost everyone in her life- even Barry. But.

Barry woke up and the streak appeared and Iris didn't feel like she was just going through the motions anymore. The blog felt like it was _hers_ , just hers. Not tangled up in the wants and needs of her other relationships. It was something _Iris_ wanted to do, not for money or prestige or her loved one's peace of mind.

So Iris marks it as hers. Puts her name name up so everyone can see. And the streak does.

 

Iris is irritated by her irritation. She should be on cloud nine after seeing- <i>talking</i> with- the streak, but she couldn't stop thinking about Barry. Of course he comes over when she's trying not to think about him.

"If you came to do laundry, I already have a load in."

"Uh, no. I-I came to talk."

Barry looks desolate. He sits down, stiff and awkward, lacing and unlacing his fingers.

"I was working a case. Someone I really thought I could help. A friend. But they died."

Oh god. "Barry, I'm really sorry."

Barry isn't looking a her for more than a few seconds.

"I didn't know her that well, but it still hurts. And as bad as I feel right now, I know how much worse it is to lose someone who's family."

Iris' stomach drops because she knows where this is going and no one in the West family household ever learned how to back down gracefully. Even when, or maybe because, real hurt was being done.

"Iris. Writing about this stuff, putting your name out there, it's dangerous. So I'm asking you one last time, please, stop."

Iris isn't sure if she really wants to strangle Barry or hug him. She can't help it.

"And I am asking you one last time to tell me what is really going on with you. Why am I the only one of us that's interested in this?"

Barry looks at her, grimaces, puts his face to his fists.

"I'm the streak."

The streak had first appeared after Barry woke up, other odd reports dating back months further. He was about Barry's height and weight.  She'd never really seen his face.  Iris isn't sure what her expression looks like, but it prompts Barry to continue.

"You were the first person I wanted to tell, but everything started getting crazy, and I thought maybe Joe was right and I shouldn't say..."

Iris squeezes her eyes shut. "Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me that my dad knew and he told you not to tell me?"

"He was trying to protect you. We both were."

The man who had raced around her the night before, literally dodging her questions, who had inspired her, helping people and proving the impossible possible. It had been her Barry Allen. Her best friend, who she loved more than almost anyone, lying to her, looking broken and helpless in that chair. 

Iris' voice is a little choked. "God. Barry, are you okay?"

Barry slumps in on himself and shakes his head. "No, Iris, Bette- she, Eiling, I had to-"

Iris drags Barry to the couch and swallows down the thousand questions she has. It's obvious that he's been working with the people from S.T.A.R. Labs since this all started, so when Barry calms down a little, Iris calls Caitlin.

When Caitlin and Cisco get there they both look at Iris a bit hesitant and guilty. Iris takes both of their hands in hers and looks back and forth between them.  Now they look scared.  Iris rolls her eyes.

"Thank you. For helping him."

 Iris pulls out the nice bottle of vodka her dad had been saving, maybe she was feeling a little vindictive. Barry chokes out a laugh.

And even Barry's  _metabolism_  has changed? That actually made a lot of sense. Although she feels a little guilty about it due to the circumstances, the little thrill she had always got thinking about the streak was zipping up her spine.

It's nice watching Caitlin, Cisco, and Barry interact. Reassuring that he hasn't been going through this alone.

When her dad gets home, all of the good feelings drain out of her. He looks surprised to see them all laughing on the couch. Smiles a little inquisitively at her. Like he hasn't been lying to her face for the past two months. Telling her she was ridiculous for believing in something he knew was true. Iris stands up.

"I'm going to stay at Eddie's tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you all like Iris <3 I really only meant to write one chapter focusing on her, but it spiraled.   
> Some Barry POV next chapter :)

The sheets are smooth and warm against her skin, mattress firm but giving enough to sink into, blanket just heavy enough to feel comforting without being stifling. The sun heated air is disturbed by a cold, coffee-scented draft from the just opened door. Iris groans and rolls her face deeper into the pillow.

"You're the one that wanted to go to the gym with me," Eddie says, a little breathlessly.

Iris pushes her arms up, her shoulders back, and revels in the feeling of a good night's sleep. Eddie's knee dents the bed, his hand runs down her arm, and he presses her lips to her shoulder, morning whiskers scraping slightly against her skin. Iris turns to the side and meets his lips with hers. She fists one hand in his sweaty shirt, wraps the other around his neck, and pulls him down. Eddie is radiating heat. He pulls away, arms framing her. Iris smiles.

"Is it my morning breath?"

"You don't mind the smell of a five mile run?"

"Mmm. I like it." They grin at each other. Eddie leans in and then pushes himself up and off the bed.

"No, no, no. We have _plans_ for this morning. I made coffee and everything."

Iris laughs. "Alright. If you'd rather get beat up."

They go to the CCPD gym, because Iris is stubborn, and she feels like if she went to another gym now that her dad knows about Eddie it would be like admitting defeat. Fortunately, they don't run into him or Barry.

She and Barry had been a little awkward and weird, made worse by the fact that Iris wasn't talking to her dad and her dad wasn't talking to Barry. Iris knows she should be the one to reach out to him, but. She feels betrayed by Barry and her dad, Barry less so because he did tell her, but it wasn't for keeping it a secret. It was for calling her crazy for believing in the streak. Leaving her to muddle through the madness on her own.

A shared hobby of boxing was something Iris and Eddie had discovered months into their relationship, much to both of their surprise. It was nice though, since their lives tended to run busy, to be able to exercise with each other. One of the things that had sold Iris on Eddie had in fact been that he would spar seriously with her. Eddie pulled his punches, of course, and Iris didn't go for his weak spots.

And how appropriate, that she used what her dad taught her to de-stress, mostly due to the stress he caused her. Her dad finds out Barry was telling the truth this whole time and the first thing he does is to make sure she doesn't find out. Like she's some kind of dead weight damsel in distress. Not important enough to know the big things.

Eddie wheezes. "Oh god, I am so sorry," Iris says, wincing. She'd got him right in the solar plexus.

Eddie laughs, a little breathless. "On that note, I need to take a shower now or I'll be late for work. I'll see you tonight babe."

Iris gives him a sweaty kiss goodbye.

 

Iris has been almost painfully curious about what happened to Barry- what powers he has, what he's been doing, what's _happened_ since he woke up. Caitlin has texted her a bit over the past few days, but Iris wouldn't feel right interrogating her. She needs to talk to Barry.

She manages to switch gears and focus on work, but by the time she starts to close Iris is running on autopilot.

What do you say when you find out your best friend is a super hero?

Iris pulls out her laptop and starts to type.

_To understand what I'm about to tell you, you need to do something first. You need to believe in the impossible. Can you do that? Good, because all of us, we have forgotten what miracles look like. Maybe because they haven't made much of an appearance lately. Our lives have become ordinary, but there is someone out there who is truly extraordinary. It doesn't matter where you came from, what your name is, I have seen you do the impossible to protect the city I love. So for those of us who believe in you and what you're doing, I just want to say thank you._

The next second Iris is stumbling on the gravel of the roof, yellow lightning crackling.

"You're welcome," his voice rumbles out.

The streak is standing in the shadows, tall and imposing. A thrill races through her.

"How did you - I literally just hit send."

"Speed reading." And she _knows_ this is Barry, but he doesn't look like her best friend, doesn't feel like him.

Iris swallows. "Showoff."

Barry laughs and steps forward. Pulls down the cowl. And it _is_ him. Barry in the streak's red suit. Barry in _his_ suit.

"What is it that you do with your voice?"

Barry is looking at her the same way he always has, soft and familial. In a way, it's more unsettling than him acting like a different person.

"Vibrating vocal chords. Why are you still blogging about me?"

"People need to know that you exist."

Iris' phone buzzes, but she ignores Eddie's call.

"You said you were doing this for me," Barry says, stepping closer, "I kept it a secret in the first place to keep you out of harm's way."

"You're giving hope to a lot of people, Barry. I'm doing this for them. Do you know how much strange stuff has been happening happening in this city? People shouldn't have to question their sanity." Iris doesn't mean to sound accusatory, but it comes out that way. A siren call wails up to where they're standing.

Barry actually  _winks_ at her. "To be continued. Gotta run."

"Hey! You can't just leave me up-" and she's back in Jitter's- "here."

 

When Eddie gets home Iris is half asleep, waiting to hear back from Barry. He looks a little off, hanging his jacket on a chair slowly, loosening his tie.

"Hey," Iris says, voice a little sleep rough, "How was your night?"

Eddie moves to the sink and drinks an entire glass of water.  Iris is starting to feel unsettled.

"Weird," Eddie finally responds, rolling his shoulders. "How come you never answered my calls?"

Iris winces. "I had to work late. What happened? Are you okay?"

Eddie comes to sit on the couch and kisses her. Iris relaxes a bit.

"Yeah," he smiles, and Iris has always loved his smile, "I'm fine."

Eddie never would talk about open cases with her. He isn't like Barry, flouting rules and legality. Eddie sighs and leans forward. Iris scoots over on the couch so she can massage his shoulders, the tense muscles around his neck. Eddie groans a little.

"What is up with your dad? He's been in a terrible mood."

Iris bites her lip.  Lies, "He and Barry are fighting about something, I don't know what."

Iris' phone vibrates and she glances down to see Barry's texted her

>>Everything's good.

"So. I've been doing a little reading," Eddie starts a little hesitantly.

Iris makes an inquiring noise, praying to god she wasn't about to get another lecture about her blog.

"About polyamory." He says it like a foreign word, soft and unsure.

Iris' stomach warms and she moves down his spine. Iris had first looked into it when she saw an advertisement for a local group in college. It had been an eye opening experience. Iris hadn't kept going though, because she couldn't seem to make one relationship last more than three months let alone more than one.

Iris and Eddie had celebrated their six month anniversary two months ago.

"I've felt so lucky to be with you this past year and I want you to be happy. I just- I don't want to lose you."

The good feeling twists. Iris moves to he side and catches Eddie's hand in her own. She leans her head on his shoulder.

"And you're not going to. I'm not going to date anyone else- I don't want to. Something that would make you feel shitty wouldn't make me happy." Iris kisses his shoulder. "I didn't tell you because you're not enough for me- you _are_. More than enough. I just thought Felicity was cute and felt bad that I hadn't told you about my poly leanings."

"Felicity?" Eddie looks at her directly for the first time that night.

"Even with the dress, I still think you're cuter."

 

Iris understands, on an intellectual level, that people's childhood experiences play a huge part in developing their self image. It's still hard to remember sometimes that Eddie isn't as self confident as she is when she constantly sees other people sigh over him. Especially because for the most part Eddie _is_ confident in himself. It makes her feel unbearably self-centered when she plays a part in his moments of insecurity.  Iris makes it a point to go visit him before her shift starts that morning.

Unfortunately she runs into her dad on the way in.

"Iris!" He stops her on the steps.

"I feel like we haven't really had a chance to talk."

Iris bites her tongue. She's only seen him in passing for the last week. Purposefully. 

He sighs.

"So this is what my cold shoulder treatment feels like. Look baby, the way I went about things, maybe that was wrong, but I was just trying to keep you safe."

"You know, that excuse is getting really old. First it was the police academy, and then it was dating Eddie, and now this."

"Iris, you can't keep running that blog."

Wow. Not even an apology.

"I've got to go."

 

Her shift starts bad and gets worse from there.

"Hi! Welcome to Jitter's, how can I help you?"

It takes a second for Iris to realize that she knows the person in front of her.

"Oh, hi Fanny."

The woman in front of her looks unaccountably nervous, one arm drape across her chest to hold the other one at her side.

"How's Barry doing?"

"He's good." Fanny bites her lip. "Could we maybe talk a little?"

Iris takes an early break and they sit at one of the window tables, bustle of the shop covering the sound of their conversation.

"Barry hasn't been answering any of my calls- and that's okay! I'm not trying to force his friendship or anything, I just wanted to apologize."

Iris looks at her quizzically. "For what?"

Fanny grimaces. "I swear I didn't know Snart was so crazy, his sister always seemed really cool."

Iris isn't stupid. In college she'd vetted all of Barry's perspective clients, contacting references, kept tabs and lists to make sure no one pulled anything shady. Barry had met 'Len' through Fanny. 'Len' apparently being Leonard Snart, the career criminal that had frozen a theater attendant and derailed a train, nearly killing sixteen more people. Iris feels the anger in her head, in her chest, in her arms. She clenches her fists.

Aggravated assault was a felony offense. Iris smiles, more teeth than lips.

"Sorry Fanny, but I think you need to leave now."

Fanny winces, opens her mouth, "Please-" Iris slams a hand on the table, cutting her off. "Now!"

Daisy is still looking at her like she's about to snap when Tony Woodward walks through the door. Iris feels like she might. She hadn't seen him since high school, not a pattern she was interested in changing. Iris wasn't a fan of assholes that used to harass her best friend. Especially when they looked capable of bench pressing  _him_. Iris sticks to her customer service face.

"So, uh, can I get you a drink?"

"No, I came to see you."

A chill runs down Iris' spine. "How did you know I was here?"

"I've been reading up on The Streak. Found your little blog. Why are you writing about this guy?" It's like he's there just to prove Barry and her dad right. Iris takes a deep breath in.

"People say that he's a hero."

"I say he's a coward, and I happen to know that he took a beating last night and ran off like a little girl. You should write about that."

Iris' heart seizes. Barry was fine, had texted her last night. He hadn't mentioned Tony Woodward.

"Do you have any idea who leather boy is?"

"No clue. So, um, if you don't want a drink I should probably get back to work." And get to a long overdue conversation with her best friend.

"Actually I'd prefer to buy you a drink. What time you off?"

And it was amazing, or maybe the more accurate word was frightening, how some people never learned how to take a hint. "Thanks, Tony, but I don't think my boyfriend would approve. He's a cop, like my dad." A reminder, vaguely threatening.

"I never really did like cops too much."

"Iris!" Daisy hisses and points to the tv. And there he is- Tony Woodward, wanted by CCPD, armed and dangerous.

Iris mouth opens and it's like a torrent of diarrhea is pouring out, "Well he's picking me up for the policeman's ball. Wall to wall cops. Can't swing a cat. I should probably call him to see where he is..."

"Give me the phone, Iris. Now!"

His arm is metal, crushing her cellphone with a pathetic _skrrk_.

"I'm sorry." He drops a wad of twenties in the tip jar with her mangled phone. "Uh, for the damage. We'll pick this up some other time."

And then he just walks out the door.

Iris' hands are shaking when she picks up the phone to call Eddie, but she's not sure if it's out of anger or fear.

"I'm going to find a unit to keep an eye on you, just stay at Jitters."

"Tell them to pick me up at S.T.A.R. Labs, I need to meet Caitlin."

Eddie sighs, "Of course you're not scared. We'll find this guy, I promise."

Iris almost laughs. "I know you don't believe in this stuff, but he crushed my phone in one hand. Eddie, please be careful."

"I will."

 

Barry meets her at the entrance, looking completely undamaged.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Tony Woodward is looking for you.”

Barry winces. "So you're not here for the grand tour. Wait, did you see him? Are you okay?"

"He didn't want to hurt me. He wanted to impress me like in high school," and Iris can't keep the sneer off her face, "but he is fixated on you, and not in a good way."

"Do you know where he went?"

"He said he had a place out in west Keystone. Bragged about how big it was, but I have no idea where."

"HA!"

Iris jumps, but it's just Cisco. "I was totally right."

She opts to ignore his contribution. "His hand. It transformed like an iron fist. He's like you, isn't he?"

"A metahuman," Caitlin says walking up behind Cisco, "who broke a total of seven bones in Barry's hand, cracked a few ribs, damaged his spleen, and gave him a concussion."

It's said reproachfully, like Barry had messed up when he should have known better, not like he had gotten seriously injured.

Apparently it was time to add accelerated healing to his growing list of abilities. Iris had a feeling insensitivity to pain wan't one of them. She feels sick.

Barry frowns, serious, like this is all totally fine. "And writing about me is what brought him to you."

_Everything's fine_

Iris may not know the streak, but she does know Barry Allen. She grabs his arm before he can run off, anger and fear welling back up like a flash flood.

"Moving super fast doesn't make you invincible. Do you know how I felt when you got hit by lightning? When your heart stopped beating? I'm supposed to look out for you. How can I do that when you never tell me what's going on?"

Cisco grabs Caitlin and backs out of the room. "We're just gonna go send in an anonymous tip to the police."

"I'm sorry," Barry says, still looking determined, "I wanted to deal with this myself. What can the police do against a guy like that?"

"It seems like you can't do anything either. Yet.  I mean wait until you figure out a way to beat him without getting yourself killed."

He looks chagrined. Iris' phone buzzes.

Barry looks at his first. "Your ride is here."

Iris hadn't noticed the security cameras before, but sure enough to deputies are standing by the front entrance.

Iris grabs his hand.  "Your ride too."

Barry frowns, "I-"

Cisco's voice over the intercom cuts him off, "You're good, dude. We'll keep an eye on things."

"Cisco!" And there's Caitlin.

Barry shakes his head. "The spies are working against me."

They spend the night together, snuggles up like they're still kids. It helps calm the low key panic Iris has been feeling over the whole thing, but she still can't drift off to sleep.

When Barry's breathing evens out she calls Eddie.

"Iris," Eddie answers on the second ring.

"Hey babe. I'm spending the night at Barry's."

Eddie huffs. "I know... Don't worry about it. I'm just glad that you have a detail on you. Please don't leave his apartment. About what you said earlier, Iris, I believe you. I _saw_ Woodward turn into metal. He broke five of Certo's bones."

Iris is selfishly glad that Barry is sleeping in the other room. She thinks about telling him about Barry. Squeezes her eyes shut.

"Eddie, this whole thing is really freaking Barry out."

"I thought Barry was into weird stuff like this?"

"He used to be, but Tony- he used to bully Barry. Just, could you look out for him at work? He and my dad are fighting and that always makes him feel shitty as is."

"I will. We're gonna get this guy."

The streak is no longer a faceless nameless mystery. Iris couldn't betray Barry like that.

She lasts until 11 am the next morning in Barry's cramped, chaotic, apartment.  She actually ends up cleaning some of his stuff, something she hardly does in her own house. After drying off her soapy hands, Iris hitches a ride with the Officers that comprise her morning detail. She smiles extra big at Doyle and tells them she'll bring the out some lunch. Iris isn't the greatest cook, but anyone can make sandwiches. Barry texts her that Tony skipped town after Eddie found where he was squatting. It's nice relaxing at home. She'd been avoiding staying there when she wasn't sleeping or passing through, avoidance tactics she'd picked up from her dad. Barry's couch was incomparable to he one in their living room. Eventually Iris picks herself up and starts finishing procrastinated school work. The crunch of the police car sounds incongruously similar to that of her cellphone.

 

The parking lot is dark, only lit up by flashing police lights- red, white, and blue. Like some nostalgic bad dream. Adrenaline is rushing through her, but her previous feeling of joyful triumph fades as Iris talks to the police officer taking her statement. She knows she's met him before, but can't remember his name. He tells her Officer Doyle got away with a broken clavicle, while Officer Gibbons is in the middle of surgery for his concussion. Barry had whisked Tony away with a flash of yellow lightning.

When her dad walks up Iris hugs him. He wraps his arms firmly around her waist, then sets his hands on her shoulders. Nothing like a near death experience to bring people together.

"So, no more blog?"

Iris swallows. "I need to get my hand checked out." She leaves her dad standing by the swirling lights, feeling alone and in pain.

The EMT puts ice on her hand and tells her she should see a doctor as soon as possible.

"Need a ride?"

In that moment Eddie looks like a holy being, too good for earthly mortals.

Iris leans her head against the window of the passenger's seat and looks at Eddie's hands on the steering wheel. Nine and three.

"Your dad told me why you're fighting."

Eddie is looking forward, always a safe driver.

"How could you not tell me about this?"

Iris clenches her fists together. Her right knuckles feel like they're on fire. "Well, seeing as everyone I did tell reacted exactly the way you are now. I'm sure you can understand why."

"How could you possibly think I'd be okay with this. You could have died."

"And you risk your life every day. You know how my dad's _last_ partner died? He was shot on duty."

Eddie parks the car in the urgent care parking lot. Turns in his seat to look at her.

"That's part of the job, I thought you understood that Iris. I'm not risking my life for a school project."

"I think I'll be fine on my own." Eddie looks like she just stabbed him.

Iris turns and opens the door, with her left hand, not wanting Eddie to see the moisture welling up in her eyes.

"Barry will pick me up."

"Fine."

 

Her hand ends up not being broken, but the doctor wraps it for her anyway. Only after saying, "You know, no nice man is going to want a girl with a bad temper."

Iris didn't think anything could save her mood at that point, but apparently the elation having Barry carry her fifteen miles in less than thirty seconds was stronger than any drug. Somehow Iris ended up back in Barry's hateful apartment, but Iris' feelings towards it are changing. It looked a lot better when her only other options made her want to pull her hair out.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Barry looks extremely uncomfortable.

Iris shakes her head. "Tell me about being the streak."

"About that, I actually kind of hate that name."

Iris, who had been expecting something awful, cracks up and pretty soon their both laughing, near hysteria.

"Okay, any other ideas?"

Barry smirks, a new confidence Iris is unused to on his face.

"The Flash."

"Okay, Flash, tell me how this all started," Iris says pulling out imaginary pen and paper.

"Well, remember that tornado out by that old farm?"

They fall asleep on the couch like they used to as children when Barry had night terrors. And Iris knows, whatever happens, she'll be okay.

.

"Can I get a pack of matches?"

Mick and the kid a the cash register stare at each other.

"Th-those are really for people who are buying cigarettes.  Do you...?"

Both of their eyes are showing whites around the edges.

Mick walks out with a cardboard box full of outdated little booklets.

Len sighs and raises his eyebrows at the kid, motion pulling at the healing bruise along the side of his face. The boy jumps and scans the bottle of painkillers sitting on the counter.

"Uh."

Len holds out a twenty for the kid to take.  

"That's three-fifty-eight in change. Have a nice day, kid."

Mick is different. He talks more than he used to, but he's also more closed off. The burns running down his arms, across his chest, take a few days to stop churning Len's stomach. Mick seems to get a kick out of this- which Len can understand. Mick also has a new tendency to ramp up the crazy when he's in public, something Len is sure Mick is aware irritates him. Finding joy in unsettling house wives, bikers, and working youth tends to be uncoducive to keeping a low profile. 

Luckily, the director of Central City's most affluent Home Security Systems was out of town. Mr. Johnson happened to enjoy his privacy and lived in a small mansion outside of Central City, over twenty miles from any neighbors. The ocean is barely visible through a thick copse of trees, but there is a nice empty field on the other side of the house.

"It's not your run of the mill flame thrower. whatever you hit will effectively reach planck temperature."

Mick's eyes are filled with an unholy glee. "You know, I was always more of a _hands on_ learner."

Len takes a moment to be grateful that the majority of attraction he'd had for Mick was in the past. The fact that he seemed more and more likely to get along too well with his sister might have something to do with it. Definitely not because of a lanky, hazel eyed CSI.

"Learn how it works, how to put it back together. I have some research to do." He ignores the eyeroll he gets in return.

Len's favorite blog has changed it's name- Saved by the Flash. It would be a lie to say he wasn't a fan of cheesy titles. Iris West has a knack for writing. Stories of the Flash saving kittens and small children, helping people with mundane tasks for no particular reason. And she also apparently got all up and personal with _the flash_. Of course he looks her up, she might have an actual connection with the man he's after, after all. Masters in psychology, dating the pretty blonde detective, daughter of the irritating detective, and foster sister of Bartholomew Allen.

Len closes the tab. A huge _whoosh_ comes from outside. Mr. Johnson should appreciate the renovations to his landscape. Len certainly appreciates the distraction.


	5. Emergency Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a small amount of **GORE**  
>  I apologize to those who were looking for something more light hearted/ less disturbing. In this story at this point in time Len is very much a cold blooded killer.

The cold gun is strapped to his hip even though he has no plans to use it in his upcoming dealings. Leonard has been unusually attached to the thing since he'd acquired it. What he was doing now, however, wasn't for show. He'd planned on making a statement of the deaths of Richard Owens and Tyler Rothwell, but he was moving up in the world. The old games had gotten boring and he'd found a fun toy and much more enjoyable playmates. Still, Len knew better than to leave loose ends. Had learned it from dear old dad and in practice.

Owens noisily opens the door, key scraping at the lock. The man is so inebriated he doesn't even notice Len from the porch light falling through the open doorway. He pats the wall clumsily and flips the lightswitch with a triumphant, "a _ha_!" and slams the door shut with his foot, nearly over balancing. Len lets his lips curl in disgust. He'd never been a fan of drunks. When Owens finally notices him sitting at his kitchen table he lets out a quiet, high pitched eep.

"Tut tut," Leonard mocks, a little put out that this would be so easy, "leaving me in the lurch wasn't very nice. Even after I warned you so gallantly."

He waits for the reality of the situation to sink in for the other man, watching his face morph into horror dawned too late. Len lifts his arm lazily and shoots him through the eye. A bit of blood and gooey brain matter spew out the back of his head before the body crumples backward. Owens hadn't even twitched.

The regret that washes over his expression is genuine.

"I really thought I had taught you better."

He slips on Owens' baseball cap and leaves the body where it dropped, exiting the apartment with a jaunty whistle, ugly trenchcoat flapping merrily in the early winter breeze. He locks the door with a satisfying clunk. A thief really should know better than to leave a spare key under the mat. Rothwell should be more fun with his partner as an early warning. Len's lips curl up. A little theatricality never hurt anyone. He forces his face smooth to stop the laugh from bubbling up. Mick really wasn't the best influence on him, instead of calm and collected he felt downright giddy.

Len really did owe the Flash. He couldn't remember a time he'd been so excited for a job. Whatever his final plan, he'd make the showdown spectacular. 

.

Barry wakes up slowly, cognizant of a warm body next to him in bed. He smiles, keeping his eyes shut and luxuriating in the feeling. He always slept better with Len there. He shakes off the vision of Len in dark goggles and a parka, phantom pain burning in his gut. It wasn't good to let nightmares follow you into wakefulness. He rolls over to look at his companion.

Iris is scrunched up next to the wall, in what looks to him to be a very uncomfortable position. Her hair is tangled and frizzy, face relaxed, breathing slow and even. Barry inhales, shocked. Sure enough, he can smell her shampoo lingering with the other familiar scents in his room. Barry runs a hand down his face. Not a dream. This or Leonard Snart.

It wasn't too odd to find her in his bed. They were both physically affectionate with the people they were close to and had shared occasionally as they grew up. They hadn't since Barry woke up from his coma and Iris started dating Eddie, but Iris had kind of temporarily moved in. For the most part she slept on his couch, but had decided it was too uncomfortable and cold last night.

Barry picks up his wrist watch from the nightstand, runs his fingers over the leather of the band, the face of the clock.

When Barry finally got a chance to sit down in his apartment and _process_ everything, he'd had a very strong and immediate urge to take the shoebox full of money "Len" had given him and set it on fire. The thought of the man's actions, that Barry had stupidly ignored any common sense and stayed with him knowing _nothing_ about him, made Barry want to throw up everything he'd eaten, his stomach lining, and maybe all his internal organs. Had Len known what would happen if someone was hit with that gun?Technically, he should have told the police about his involvement with Len and given the money as evidence to see if it was traceable to any crimes.  He still wasn't sure if giving the money to the Hernandez family was the right thing to do, but it had felt like some kind of inadequate reparation.

Barry still can't bring himself to part with the watch. He doesn't sit around thinking about Len all the time, and if sometimes he falls asleep with it clutched in one had, that's his business. Barry rubs his hands of his gummy eyes and rolls out of bed. Winces at the cold floor.

Since gaining superpowers, his morning routine had drastically changed. When he didn't have to scramble to work, Barry used to read a little from a new book or journal (he subscribed to four). Now it took less than a minute to finish an entire one. He used to make some half hearted attempts to stay in shape- sit ups, push ups and the like- with nothing to show for it. Now he got ridiculous muscles for literally doing nothing. Barry looks mournfully at Iris' coffee grounds. The worst change by far had to be the effect of caffeine. Before it was a nice pick me up if he was feeling drowsy or unmotivated, but now he only got an extremely uncomfortable two second buzz. Barry starts his coffee machine feeling unfairly persecuted.

Iris stumbles out when the machine clicks off and pours herself the second cup. She drinks half of it before groaning irritably. When they were kids Joe used to joke that Iris was more of a bear in the morning than _Bear_ -y. Haha. Get it? Barry cringes at the automatic thought.

"What even is the point?" she grumbles, cleaning out the filter to start her own.

"The _taste_."

Iris sends him an extremely judgy look.

"You might as well just put sugar in a cup of milk."

Barry drains the cup. "Excuse you, this is hazelnut syrup. Don't be a hater."

Iris rolls her eyes and rustles around his tiny kitchen. She finds a third of a loaf of bread, pulls out a piece, and frowns at it. She looks at Barry.

"French Toast?"

Barry has had a thousand fantasies of living with Iris in his apartment, in their own house, with their children. In reality it's about the same as living with her throughout their adolescent years. They fall into old patterns- familial, not romantic. But Barry doesn't harbor any hopes that Iris will come to realize how much she loves being with Barry and dump Eddie. He doesn't look at her and crave something more in every bone of his body. The thought of Iris and Eddie together doesn't _burn_. It's because of Leonard Snart and Barry doesn't know if he should be grateful or hate him for it.

His phone vibrates with a message from Cisco

>>Duuude. New SciFi action/thriller comes out this weekend!

The griddle sizzles and Barry can smell cinnamon and frying butter fill up the room.

He smiles. Friends were a godsend.

Half way through breakfast Barry gets a call from Joe. A man was shot in an apartment three blocks away.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Barry says ending the call.

"Can't you get there in, like, five seconds?"

"There are certain things you need to take slow," Barry responds eyeing the remaining three slices of French Toast on his plate, " _savor._ "

 

"Oh god," Barry groans.

He raises a sleeve to cover his nose and mouth, fumbling one handedly through his bag for a mask. Eddie makes a sympathetic noise of agreement, looking faintly green.

"We have no idea how long the body has been there, landlord only found him after a neighbor complained too many times about the smell. No obvious signs of forced entry, the victim's ID matches the name of the tenant." Joe is all business today, looking irritated by everything.

Barry confirms that there was no forced entry and it was most definitely a professional job. Unfortunately he came to this conclusion because there was literally no evidence of another person in the apartment except for the bullet lodged in the wall separating the living room and bathroom. Barry takes it out with great care, trying to avoid further obfuscating the rifling characteristics.

It's been awkward working with Joe and Eddie. Joe is still furious with him for telling Iris. Barry knew he would be, but he'd expected him to come around after a few weeks. Instead, Joe had seemed to get even more upset. He had also somehow managed to recruit Eddie into his crusade.

They both enter his lab, where Barry had been studying the bullet under a microscope, after a perfunctory knock.

"Any news?" Barry asks, looking back to the lens- he thought he'd seen- he had!

"The victim was a convicted felon, two accounts of armed robbery, suspected in three other cases."

"Hmm, I'll have the model confirmed in a few minutes."

"Barry, this happened in your neighborhood."

Barry looks up confused. Joe sighs and runs a hand down his face. Eddie looks uncomfortable but determined.

"I know Iris has been staying with you," Joe starts, and It's only now that Barry notices how exhausted he looks, "I really wish you'd stop encouraging her."

Barry shoves back his automatic guilty response.

"For the record? I did try to get her to stop. Multiple times. You guys know Iris, the only way she'll let go is if she wants to."

Eddie, at least, seems like he's listening.

.

"This is really creepy."

" _Thank you_ ," Caitlin whispers fervently.

"I get Nimbus, but should Tony get a trial? I mean, you can't keep them in there forever."

"And what would you suggest, Ms. West?" Iris holds back her glare.

Barry cuts in before Iris can respond, "I know it's kind of shady, but what prison could hold him?"

"We've been talking about rehabilitation," Cisco adds, "but so far I can't even give Nimbus his food with out him trying to kill me. The anger issues are strong in that one."

Tony is banging his fists on the window of his cell, metal gleaming, yelling unheard.

Iris spent plenty of time, maybe too much time, at S.T.A.R. Labs while Barry was in his coma, but she'd never had a tour of the facilities like this. Hadn't been interested in one. She has no idea what 90% of the equipment does, even with Cisco, Caitlin and Barry's enthusiastic explanations. It's like a nerd's wet dream, but since she was currently not on speaking terms with Eddie or her dad, Iris had been spending a lot more time with Barry and his cute nerd friends. It's nice getting to know them beyond their individual recent personal grief and trauma.

Iris knows she should be grateful to Dr. Wells for taking in Barry when the hospital was about to give up hope, and she is, but unlike with Caitlin and Cisco, she does not like him. Doesn't like his face, the way he looks at Cisco and Caitlin- Barry and _her_. Doesn't like the way he says her name, like he knows something she doesn't.

 

Iris is surprised by an invitation from Caitlin to get lunch together that weekend, but takes her up on it with nearly embarrassing enthusiasm. When they first met, and now she feels guilty for the judgement, Iris had thought of Caitlin as a very stiff, formal, and boring kind of person. Iris feels incredibly satisfied when Caitlin looses some of her reserve around her. 

Caitlin tells her she'd been wanting to go to a cute Italian shop, but Cisco had dragged Barry off to the theater. Iris is only slightly put out- Barry was supposed to see movies with  _her_ \- because she's happy to spend more time with the other woman.

"I just can't stand it when they have a debilitating injury one moment and act like it's completely healed then next!" Caitlin looks physically pained.  "Cisco has the worst taste in movies."

"You two seem pretty close?"

Caitlin smiles. "We are. I mean, after the particle accelerator... we were the only ones that stuck around."

"So your both ballsy and loyal. Not bad traits to share." Iris watches a blush color Caitlin's cheeks with a grin.

"I had a hard time with everything for a while." She says it like a guilty admission, like grieving after the loss of her fiance was something shameful, "and Cisco and Dr. Wells were there for me anyway. Barry actually helped a lot with getting back into doing _normal_ things."

"Barry's good for that."

They both share a fond smile.

The cafe is cute, painted in mellow pastels with nice bare wood accents and, more importantly, it smells divine. The host tells them that they bake their bread in house daily as she leads them to a window table. There's only one other occupied table, but it's also two pm.

"How are things with you and Eddie?"

Iris can't help heaving a sigh.

"Badly." Caitlin winces. "He's never been a controlling guy. I mean, he _knows_ I can take care of myself. And even if I couldn't, I'm an adult! I can make my own decisions."

Caitlin's voice is a little timid, "Maybe he's worried about losing you?"

Iris remembers Ronnie and her stomach drops. "Caitlin, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be complaining." Since when had she become such a self obsessed person?

Caitlin shakes her head emphatically. "No, not at all. I like hearing about normal couple drama. It's a nice change from the usual metahuman crises."

Caitlin really is a sweet person. Iris smiles, thinking of ways to get Caitlin comfortable with sharing more of herself.

"Well, did I ever tell you about our second date?"

 

Iris really hates Barry's couch. She's stretched out over the thing trying to find a contortion where something isn't digging into her uncomfortably. She suspects that since she hasn't been able to find one in the past week she never will. Iris huffs and flips onto her back, glaring at the ceiling.

"It might help if you talked to him."

For once, Iris hadn't been thinking about her boyfriend or dad.  "Who?"

Barry walks over so his face is in her line of vision. Iris can see up his nose.

"Well aren't you only mad at Eddie because he's reminding you of Joe?"

"Since when did you get a degree in psychoanalysis?"

She hates that he's not wrong.

And his couch.

 

Iris is at the precinct the next day. Of course with her recent luck, the first person she runs into is Eddie.

"Hi!"

"Hi! are you-" "I was-"

They both wince. They were in the 'giving each other time' stage. It was incredibly awkward, something Iris wasn't used to associating with someone that usually made her relax.

"I was looking for my dad?"

"Oh," Eddie says stiffly, "he's in Allen's lab."

They smile tightly and Iris escapes.

"He's dangerous," Iris can hear Barry say as she walks through.

"Who's dangerous?"

"No one-" "A new metahuman," Barry and Joe speak at the same time.

Iris sighs and raises her eyebrows at Barry.

"He siphons energy." Barry runs his fingers through his hair. "He took my powers."

"What do you mean?"

Joe points at the floor and Iris notices shards of red ceramic scattered across it.

"Aw, you loved that mug."

Barry meets her eyes and she notices how broken he looks.  Iris is reminded of the night he told her he was the Flash, the night his friend died.

"I lost my speed. I can't be the Flash anymore."

"Which is why he needs to go S.T.A.R. Labs and get it back."

Iris frowns at Barry, worried. She wraps her arms around his waist. Says, "Be careful, okay?" into his chest. Pulls back. "You're more important than the Flash, Barry Allen. And you should have more faith. Cops in Central City are the best there are."

Her dad looks at her after she says it, a peace offering, but Iris doesn't meet his eyes. He had his own efforts to make. He turns to Barry.

"Don't you have someplace to be?"

"Yeah, going."

Iris tries to give him an encouraging smile as he leaves. Tries to feel courageous herself.

"There are things aren't safe for you to know about Iris. That are better for you to not know about." He looks the oldest Iris has ever seen him

Iris tries to soften her words, bit it doesn't work very well. "That's not you're call to make and did you ever stop to think that looping me in would keep me safe? That if I knew what was out there that I could prepare for it?" 

The walk down together, awkward and stiff. Both of them are trying.

The power goes out. It's funny because Iris has seen so many impossible things in the past month, but getting held up in the precinct doesn't feel right. Like a surreal dream.

No, a nightmare. Eddie gets shot. Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie is on the floor bleeding. Iris knows it's something that happens to police officers. Is she screaming? She wants to run to him, but something is holding her back.

The Clock King is kneeling by Eddie. Isn't she supposed to save him? Eddie is screaming. The Clock King is painting his arm with blood. No,  _The_   _Flash_ is supposed to save him, but Barry isn't here and time is up.

The Clock King grabs her arm and her dad  _begs_ and this is real. Eddie is dying. She has twenty seconds.

Iris falls to her knees. "Eddie.  _Eddie._ "

And Iris thought that she could compartmentalize.  That she had come to terms with the fact that loved ones could and would leave you forever.

"Sorry, babe."

"No, please. You have to hang on for me, okay? I don't want to lose you either."

Iris isn't sure if Tockman had thought he'd be fast enough or if she wouldn't use it. This man had shot her boyfriend, used him as collateral. She felt no compunctions.

-

 Farooq killed Tony, was probably going to kill Wells. His powers had not been restored. Barry and Caitlin are running through the lab cum death trap. Iris and Joe were hostages. Barry couldn't save them. Wouldn't be able to save himself or Caitlin. Or his dad. The thought burns, his father stuck in prison with absolutely no one. Barry should have done more, he should have made his dad a priority instead of gallivanting around, _helping people_. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even save his father. And just then, Barry regrets every moment he spent distracted by other things. His new powers, metahumans, Iris, _Leonard Snart_. Barry tears the stupid watch off his wrist and drops it. He'd spent so much time with him, thinking about him, even after he found out he was a murder, a thief, a fucking  _Houdini_. Barry scrambles to yank his cellphone out of his pocket.

"Barry?" Caitlin asks, hopefully, like he's discovered some way to save them.

Barry shakes his head, wincing. "I just remembered I have to make a call."

His number is still saved under 'Len'. He jabs at it.

"Come on, pick up pickuppickup."  His heart is racing.

The phone clicks. "Your call has been-" "Shit!" "- forwarded to an automatic voice message system ********** is not available. At the tone please record your message When you have finished recording you may hang up or press 1 for more options."

" _Len_. Uh." Barry suddenly realizes that he has no idea what to say. "If I die, will you help my dad? Please. Please-"

"Barry! Caitlin!" Cisco calls out, audibly relieved.

Barry bites his lip, presses end. 

Somehow they all make it out alive. Except for Tony. And Farooq.  But Barry can't blame Dr. Wells, Barry was the one that failed them all.

 

Barry finds Iris sitting on the bench outside Eddie's room. Her feet are curled up on it, arms around her legs, face pressed into her knees. Barry's heart drops and he clenches the vase in his hands.

"Iris?"

Iris looks up and stretches her legs to the floor. Her eyes are dry, no grief on her face. "Eddie's okay, just very, very high." Barry's shoulders fall. "I'd feel wrong to talk to him on drugs. When we're fighting."

Barry sets the flowers down on the bench and sits next to her.

"I am so sorry."

Iris kicks his foot. "You can't save everybody Barry. You've got to give other people the chance to be a hero."

Barry knows Iris is being genuine, but her words are morose. "How'd your night go?"

Barry's hand vibrates in front of them. "Well, I got my powers back."

Joe steps out of Eddie's room shaking his head. "Man, your boy is _lit_."

Iris giggles a little and it's so nice to see that they're patching things up. Joe nods at Barry's flowers. "Why don't you go give those to the man of the hour."

Barry knocks on the doorway. Eddie's eyes light up when he sees him.

"Hey, Allen."

Barry smiles,"Hey, Eddie." He sets the vase down on the table.

"Flowers. That's so nice. You're _so_ nice. Where were you all night?"

"Home, trying to eat all the ice cream before it melted."

"I love ice cream."

-

Her dad takes Barry's vacated seat and stares at his hands for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice a little rough. He looks up and Iris is shocked to see that his eyes actually look a little wet.

"I have a hard time being open about things that could hurt you. My life started when you were born, and sometimes my incredible love for you, it blinds me, and I forget... I forget what a brilliant young woman you are, how you're capable of making your own decisions."

Something in Iris' chest loosens, warms. She wraps her arms around him and he returns the favor and Iris knows he can't protect her from everything, but being in his arms makes it feel like everything is going to be okay. Iris squeezes her eyes shut.

"Daddy, I know that everything that you do is out of love. So love me enough to always tell me the truth, yeah?"

"Deal."

-

"I can see why Iris loves you," Eddie says, seeming to struggle with something, "I-"

"Okay, Eddie," Barry cuts him off, suddenly understanding _exactly_ what Iris meant. "Feel better soon."

He slips out the door feeling supremely awkward. Joe and Iris look up at him.

Joe looks frighteningly solemn. "There's something I need to tell you two."

"What?"

"You know I've been looking into your dad's case?" Barry nods, apprehensive. "You described seeing a yellow man in red lightning. About a week ago he paid a visit to me at the house. He took all the evidence from your mom's case."

It takes a while for the words to sink in. And then his heartbeat kicks up, cold sweat breaking out down his back. His mom screaming, knife sticking out of her, glowing red eyes. The childhood nightmare he's always known to be real.

"He threatened to kill Iris."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unpolished quality!

Two days since her dad told them about the man in yellow and Barry hasn't left her side. It's twisted, but horrible stress really does bring people together. In a way it reminds her of the first couple weeks after Barry's mom died- everyone a little shell shocked, Iris not quite knowing the full extent of what had happened.

She gives her dad a huge hug before he leaves for work, followed by Barry doing the same. After telling the truth, Iris couldn't help but think he looked a little more frail. No matter how her dad had been acting, and now she does have a little empathy, she loves him.

With such little information, Iris can only make broad assumptions. The yellow man had left no trace leading up to killing Barry's mother or after. Barry had, after all, been looking into it ever since and her dad assured her he'd also looked over the past few months. Of course now any progress he'd made studying the crime scene was unavailable. Still, he had to have been keeping a close eye on them to know enough to warn her dad off. Disturbing, but it also let her know there was something to be found, and that Barry, unlike her dad, hadn't been looking in the right places.

Iris has been worried for Barry and to a lesser extent her father, but it's not like she has crippling childhood trauma to accompany it. She knows nothing of his goals, his reasoning, his powers. It was obvious that the other metahuman's powers had come from the particle accelerator, so where did this man's come from? Was the reason Barry was gifted with speed because of what had happened when they interacted? She wonders if he's also been thinking about exactly how close an eye he's kept on them all. Has he been in Central City the whole time, or was it Barry's powers that had brought him back?

Iris is uncomfortably aware that she has no way of fighting back if the man decides to make good on his threats. She does believe in Barry, he's always been a fighter even before he got superpowers, but this isn't something she wants him to have to deal with. Iris desperately wishes she had some way to change things. Barry has dark circles to rival her father's, and he can't pull them off half as well.

"Have you slept at all?"

Barry gives her a look that really could mean anything. They're both too tired and in their own heads to communicate properly. Barry had collapsed back onto the couch after her dad had left, but now that Iris was ready to go to work he was standing again. He looks haunted. Iris wraps her arms around him, leans her cheek against his chest. When Barry first moved in he'd been shorter than her. She wants to drag him into bed and make him drink chamomile tea, make sure nothing bad happens as he sleeps. But the world doesn't stop turning just because you need it to.

"I'd rather have him come get me than live my life constantly looking over my shoulder, having _you_ constantly looking over my shoulder. Go home and take a nap."

It's amazing that someone could look so stubborn when they seem ready to fall over, but Barry always has been pretty amazing.

She glares. "How is it going to help to be hallucinating from lack of sleep?"

They stare at each other. "Are you waiting to smell so bad you'll scare the yellow man off?"

Barry wrinkles his nose. She's getting somewhere, however unkind the means. "I have a cellphone and witnesses, _go_."

He goes.

She's scared, but it's an abstract kind of fear. Iris squares her shoulders. She'd be fine.

Her shift passes in that hazy quick way that accompanies sleep deprivation. There are no big slip ups so Iris honestly doesn't mind. When she clocks out and checks her phone Iris finds a missed call from Eddie. She hadn't noticed her phone vibrate. How was it that she kept missing all of his calls? He hadn't left a message. Iris hesitates. She's too tired to deal with the kind of serious conversation this would require. She desperately wants to see him.

Eddie opens the door enough time after Iris had knocked that she'd been debating running away before he knew she was there. His arm is in a sling and he looks almost as bad as Barry.

"You didn't visit me."

Iris feels embarrassingly close to crying. "I didn't know you wanted me to."

Eddie wipes a hand down his face and opens the door further. "Of course I did." He sounds kind of angry, but Iris takes the silent invitation anyway.

Eddie's apartment is lit only by the fog blocked sun coming in through the window. Iris knows she's being selfish and unfair, but she doesn't want to do this. She wants to lie down in Eddies arms and have everything else go away. Eddie sits down on his couch, winces as he jostles his arm. Iris isn't quite comfortable just sitting next to him, but she doesn't want to stand over him or talk to him from the kitchen. She sits, trying to upset the couch as little as possible.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Looking back on it, Iris doesn't even have a concrete reason. She had tried to talk to him about the Flash a few times, but after him dismissing it off hand, had just gotten into the habit of not talking about it. She knows she should have told him the first time the Flash actually contacted her. Still, it's not like deleting her blog would even keep her out of danger. Not with the yellow man circling their lives. Not that that would make Eddie feel better. Not that she could tell him at all. Iris isn't a fan of lying, but Barry would always come first.

"I don't know." Her voice is small.

"I could have died," Eddie says matter of factly. "If I hadn't been wearing a bullet proof vest, if Tockman hadn't-" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath. "I don't want to loose you, not because I'm scared of that exact thing happening. But do you even want to be with me?"

Iris' heart beats erratically in her chest. How could he- "I do. Eddie I _do_."

He buries his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. "I can't help but think that I'm not good enough."

Iris swallows. Had she really made him feel that way? "You're one of the best people I know. I've never dated anyone seriously- like I'm dating you. I always said it was because I didn't have the time, but I didn't _make_ the time. No one before you mattered enough to." Iris puts her forehead on Eddie's back, feeling his great shuddering sobs shake his body. "You matter to me. You're handsome, kind, hardworking, and you make me stop when I'm running too far ahead. Eddie, I love you."

.

Joe had asked him and Iris to keep what he told them from everyone- including the people at S.T.A.R. labs. He feels guilty about Dr. Wells, doesn't want the other man to think he's not taking their work seriously or that he still childishly blames him for making the hard decision that had saved their lives. Barry just doesn't think he could fake normal well enough to avoid awkward questions. He turns his cellphone off after ignoring another call from Caitlin.

Barry slumps home at a slow walk, even though he can almost feel his powers thrum with a desire to be used. Maybe it was just exhaustion that was leading him to anthropomorphize his speed. He hasn't really used it since the night at the hospital, feeling some kind of unease at the thought. Like it would call man in yellow to him like the devil.

Barry freezes at his door, some indefinable sense telling him something is off. He thinks about running in quicker than anyone could see. Anyone other than the man in yellow. The man who killed his mother could be just as fast. Barry's hands are shaking. He clenches them and turns the involuntary tremors into vibrations. His greatest talent may be in running away, but this was a fight he couldn't turn his back on.

He zips in, looking for an ambush or some kind of barbarous trap to find that the only thing out of place was Len. Sitting at his coffee table, reading one of Barry's old chemistry text books. He's wearing black framed glasses, leaning forward over the text, neck stretched artistically. A peacoat is draped across the back of the chair and the sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled over his forearms. Like this is normal, like he belongs in Barry's cramped messy apartment. The sunlight is falling on the table, glimmering off the silver in his hair and lighting up his eyes. Barry slows down at his door and the world speeds up. A breeze blows through the apartment.

Len jolts and it's only when he looks over and relaxes that Barry notices that he'd been tense before. His eyes are are laser focused on Barry, examining every available inch of him, lingering on his face. It's stupid and shallow, but for a second all Barry can think about are the bags under his eyes, that he hasn't taken a shower in almost three days. Barry was completely unprepared to see Len in his apartment.

"What are you doing here?"

Len raises an eyebrow, still staring. His voice is soft, enunciating slowly. "You're the one that called me."

Honestly, Barry had completely forgotten. He sags in the doorway.

“I can’t believe you gave me your real name.”

Barry snorts and closes the door. “Should I have told you my name was Richard?” His mind is racing incredibly fast, but for all his thinking power, he still has no idea how to deal with this situation. There's only one thought racing through his head-

"Why are you here?"

Len frowns. "I care about you."

He says it like it should be obvious and maybe it should be. Why else would he be there? But this is the same man that endangered so many people, _killed_ Hernandez, hurt the flash with ease. Barry's heart is hammering at his rib cage, blood singing. He's frozen in front of the closed door. Len slides the glasses off his face and sets them on the table. Stands with the barest scraping of the chair. His movements are precise and relaxed. Was this what his eyes looked like behind those goggles when he stood over the flash like an capricious god meting judgement? Soft, blue and warm.

"Are you okay?"

Len steps forward slowly, like someone approaching a skittish animal. Barry meets him half way, wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his shoulder, breathes in his smell with a shuddered inhale. Lens hands are strong and big on his back. The muscles that have been wound tight for days slowly loosen.

Barry has no idea how long the stand like that, but eventually Len leads him to his bed. Barry collapses onto it like the strings that have keeping him a functional human being have been cut.  The other man leaves, but Barry can't spare the energy to be concerned. What feels like moments later he's easing Barry up to lean against his side, pressing a cold glass to his lips. He doesn't feel particularly thirsty, but Barry drinks anyway.  When he's finished he pulls Len down with him.  Barry curls around Len and the last thing he is conscious of is the other man's arm reaching around him.

.

extra (this is a little depressing and not necessary for the story, but I think some people want it)

The more he thinks about it the more excited Len gets about dealing with the Flash.  The long term plan was obviously to get rid of him, but in the meantime there were plenty of scenarios to consider with the mystery man alive and well.  As his vague thoughts grew solid and detailed, he was able to focus easily on the new variable.  Len had finally managed to go a full day without checking his defunct phone. It was of course during that period that Barry called.

The red light flashes tauntingly at him.  Everyone else that had the number are now (some more recently than others) deceased.  Still, it could be a mistaken number.  Len's  fingers tap out a pattern on his thigh as looks at the number.  It's Barry's, memorized from the first time he'd called.  Len lets out a slow breath, forces himself to check it without pause.

" _Len_. Uh." His voice is soft, raw. Len's heart speeds up, jerking uncomfortably in his chest.  There's an uncomfortably long pause that has impatience building. "If I die, will you help my dad? Please. Please-"

"Barry! Caitlin!"  Another voice farther away, male, most likely young, cuts him off.  The recording cuts off.

Len hasn't felt this kind of panic in years- the kind that grips you like a rag doll, shakes the foundations of the life you've built for yourself, and leaves you incapable of anything else.

Is Barry dead- _who were the people with him_ -is Barry dead- _what had happened_ -is Barry dead- _he could be-_ is Barry- _where-LisaLisaLisaDEAD?_

"Lenny?"

He bites his lip so hard he can feel hot liquid on his tongue, taste copper. The pain doesn't help him think, but having Mick there does. He doesn't say anything else, just sits down on the floor next to him.  Len realizes he's crouched down, hands gripping the phone tightly enough to dig into his skin. He's such a fucking idiot.

With shaking fingers he calls back. Barry's phone is off. He keeps thinking.

Len stands slowly, back cracking. He didn't want anyone to ever see him like he just was, but at least it was Mick.

"Thanks," he says grudgingly.

Mick just falls onto his back on the floor, apparently content. "No problem."

Barry's address is as easy to find as he's expected.

Len takes a long, cold shower. If Barry was dead it wouldn't make a difference when he got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barry you jerk. A little shorter, but I wanted to post this now. It may take me a while to update again, but I will finish this story. Thanks for the support thus far! You all, especially the commenters, make this really fun for me :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I fucked up my finger so I literally can't practice :/ At least I got something done lol.  
> For those of you who aren't interested in sex scenes skip from the asterisk to the other one :)

PART 1: warnings for **anxiety, child abuse, domestic violence, drug use/addiction and homophobic language**. If any of that is too much, skip to part 2!

 

The fist time Leonard fears for someone's life is when he's seven. It starts when he asks his dad why his partner never comes around any more.

Len liked his dad's partner- he'd make sure there was enough baby food for Lisa, and drive them to their grandpa's and gave him a piece of paper with a number written on it that Len could call any time. Said dad was going through a hard time and they had to be there for him. Len never did call, but he kept the piece of paper even though he had it memorized the first time he read it. He'd bring over home cooked meals (smile and say "Stella" like other people said "God") that Len liked better than fast food even though it didn't taste as good. He'd bring books for Len to read- that were kind of boring and simple, but Lisa liked the pictures and when Len read them out loud in funny voices. He'd ruffle Len's hair when he got straight A's on a report card and wink at him when Dad said book smarts didn't mean shit, like they were sharing a secret. Once he even said, "Don't you worry about your sister, I'm gonna make sure you two go to a better place."

When he asks, his dad laughs. It's an ugly sound that Len had never liked- harsh and braying.

"That nosy fag went the same way as your mom."

One of the places dad's face is leaking fluid is his eyes.

Len can barely remember the night mom died, but he remembers his dad's face had looked similar to this. He'd picked her up off the floor, but instead of putting her in bed like he usually did, he took her out the front door. Len can remember the next week a lot better- strangers coming through and patting his head like a dog and drinking with his dad and leaving so much food that it barely fit in the garbage bag when it all went bad.

His most vivid memory is when dad had tried to take it out and the thin plastic had yawned open and globbed moldy casserole, chili, and meat pie all over the floor. Len let out an involuntary giggle, eyes wide, at the expression on dad's face. The man's eyes had jumped from the mess on the floor, his shoes to Len. The look on his face was the most frightening thing Len had ever seen. Dad stormed over to him, shoes squelching and spreading old food across the carpet and Len couldn't move, couldn't stop the nervous laughter at the ridiculous sound. His dad picking him up and slamming him into the desk had though. He'd barely heard what dad was saying through the pain shrieking across his back, ringing in his ears.

"What are you laughing at, you little idiot! What do you think you're looking at?" He left Len curled up on the floor, walked out and slammed the door behind him. Len hoped he might never come home, like his mom.

It took Len hours to clean up the mess, made worse when the ringing in his head made him add his own vomit to the mix. His dad came home not long after and hugged Len, smelling so strong it burned his nose.

"You c'n be so stupid, son," he'd slurred, "School doesn' learn shit. I guess I gotta teach you the real lessons."

 

They narrow on Len. "What are you looking at?" Len had been too young to understand then that dad had killed his mom, but now he knows. He killed his partner too. He'd always been scared of dad, scared he'd hurt him like he used to hurt Lisa's mom before she left, but now he knows he's a murderer.

And if dad kills Len then who's going to feed Lisa when she's hungry or change her diaper or read her stories? Who's going to make sure she doesn't wake dad up in the middle of the night?

His dad's partner was a liar, but even though he throws away the paper Len will never forget Benny, 273-8255.

 

One of the lessons his dad teaches him is that people die and it doesn't matter. Len is grateful- feeling numb when someone is getting their fingers cut off is a lot nicer than the terror he feels whenever his dad is drunk and Lisa is at home. The first time Len's dad tells him he's proud is when he kills someone before being prompted. He felt nothing- at the phrase or at the  body dropping. He learned how to not care- he's fine when his grandpa dies and the most freeing thing is when he stops loving his dad- when all that's left is festering anger and fear.

He never quite learned how to not care about Lisa. Even when he realized his dad didn't hurt her for the same reasons he hurt him, hurt her  _because_ of him, to punish his mistakes or just to mock.

Even when he leaves, she haunts his thoughts at night until he finally passes out from exhaustion hours after he meant to fall asleep. Even when she starts drinking as much as their father. When she hangs out with sick men that don't love her. When she starts shooting meth and heroin and calling Len, telling him how much she hates him and how much she loves him and how could he, how could he, how could he.

Len and Lisa manage to get her clean for a month when she's nineteen. When she disappears he's more scared than he ever has been before. He finds her days later, with some asshole that Len kills on the spot, speaking gibberish. Lisa doesn't ever get that bad again, but she's never sober for more than four months until nearly fifteen years later. The low key anxiety never quite leaves Len, even then.

He learns on his own that caring about people makes you weak, helpless, and hurts. Still, somehow he ends up ruining his own heist to save an incompetent partner and years later he almost has a panic attack when he realizes a CSI he paid to sleep with him could be dead.

He should have been more careful, shouldn't have let his identity slip in that last heist. He shouldn't care at all. He could have been there with him now if he'd registered the Flash as a real threat sooner and dealt with him accordingly. Len is still so fucking stupid. Because no matter how  _fun_ the Flash is, he's no where near as important as Barry.

It was obvious, when Len couldn't stop thinking about him, when he was checking that stupid over lived burner phone every hour on bad days, that Len cared about Barry. He's not like Lisa, his baby sister who he's loved since the day she was born. He's not like Mick, who for all their differences, agreed on the big things. Barry was Len's polar opposite in almost every way and Len _craved_ him.

His laugh when Len said some nerdy joke that would have everyone else he knows cringing. The way he'd get awkward and shy in the most fascinating counterpoint to his smooth confidence. The odes he'd get into about modern science, like Len is his contemporary. His hands and his smile and the way he'd almost fall into the room sometimes because he was that excited to see him. How Len felt- light and happy and  _content_ \- when he was with Barry.

The lack of information, Len _wouldn't_ fall to stalking, would have Lisa take him out back and shooting before he got to that point, drove his worrying tendencies into hyper drive. Barry had gotten rid every last penny he'd given him. Where was the money from his work with the police going? Was he eating okay? Who was feeding him? Was he making up for scorning Len's dirty money by finding even sketchier men in worse bars? Was he safe?

He manages to stop feeding his anxiety for the most part (he's had a lot of practice), focusing on other things, but Len isn't built to stop caring about someone once he's started. When Barry calls him for the first time since Len's derailed diamond heist, he abandons his planning and is at Barry's apartment the next morning. Barry, on the other hand, is not.

And it doesn't make a difference, death happens to everyone, he could be fine. Len calls him a third time and Barry's phone is still off. Len is fine, he will be fine no matter what happens, but Barry does matter.

Len goes to the second place on his list. In his varied history he has done much grosser things than lurk around a family neighborhood. The West residence is like a setting from a hallmark movie. Green grassy lawn, shiny affordable car in the driveway, beautiful daughter hugging her handsome father, and creepy guy staring at them through their window.

His gut sinks. That's not a normal goodbye hug. That's a the titanic is sinking we're going to die hug. But surely Iris West wouldn't smile like that if her foster brother were dead? No, Barry's there, waiting in line to hug his foster father goodbye. Len's heart tries to make one last leap out of his chest and then settles.

A dog barks, jolting Len's attention away from the hallmark moment. The owner is looking at him with a frown, like, oh that guy looks familiar maybe we went to high school together? Len smiles and waves, keeps walking past her. The world looks a little more real, a little more welcoming. And Len is impatient, wants to see Barry now, hear his voice, kill anyone that had ever put him in danger, but Joe West's home was not the place.

Len is proud of calling only three times when he'd wanted to every minute.  

He's ashamed of breaking down three times over nothing.

He doubts Barry really wants to see him at all, but he had called and Len wasn't above taking advantage.  Even though he knew outright rejection would sting, he needed to see up close and personal that Barry was okay. Offer his services in whatever way he'd accept and take care of the rest anyway. He wasn't prepared to care about another person, but Len always learned from his mistakes and he'd never let someone he loved down again.

 

PART 2

Len takes care of him like a little kid with the flu. Barry remembers waking up, some indeterminable time in the night, cozy and warm. Len had made him drink two cups of tea and eat half a sleeve of saltines. Cruel and unusual.

Barry eyes the proffered bottle of pedialyte with skepticism. Sunlight is sneaking in through the cracks in his curtains. Len huffs out an irritated sigh. "Drink it and I'll make you hash browns." Barry drinks.

His alarm clock reads 8:50. Barry's best estimate for when he passed out would be around 4 o'clock. So he had slept almost eighteen hours. Len is still there, stretched out on Barry's bed with his back to the wall. His slacks are wrinkled and he's shed the button down shirt to show the white v neck underneath. Something about seeing his feet covered in dark grey socks makes Barry feel fuzzy and content. There's an satisfied look about Len- eyes soft, lips curled slightly up on one side. At Barry's staring his expression smooths.

"Go take a shower."

Barry doesn't bother hiding his pout- if Len was going to treat him like a child he might as well act like one. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"Have you seen the size of your shower?"

Barry concedes the point and shuffles mournfully to the bathroom. He'd missed the easy intimacy of sharing a bath and he didn't particularly want to leave Len's side. For all his foot dragging, being clean feels amazing. Barry is grateful for the thousandth time for his body's new functionality. Whereas before he would have had a terrible headache from crying and a general feeling of blarg from not sleeping, now he feels perfect.

Barry can smell frying potatoes through the door and, when he shuts off the water, hear grease sizzle. He feels light, something warm bubbling up in his chest. It takes four seconds to pull on a long sleeved shirt and sweats. He's in the kitchen the next.

Len looks terribly domestic jerking one of Barry's seldom used cast iron pans over the burner. After seeing him practically living in a hotel and eating takeout for every meal, the idea of Len cooking hadn't crossed Barry's mind.

"You went grocery shopping?"

Len's whole body flinches before he turns to Barry with a scowl. "The only food in your apartment was a box of saltines, salsa, moldy chinese take out, a disturbingly varied supply of coffee, and something that looks like a science experiment. It's a shock you have salt and pepper."

"I'm a busy guy," Barry explains. And in his defense the energy bars in his cupboard _are_ an experiment. Cisco had literally cooked them in a lab. Barry had kept them in case of emergency- as in if every other food item on earth disappeared.

Len quirks an eyebrow and turns back to his work, flipping a spatula through his fingers in a way that has Barry seriously impressed, and flipping a beautiful omelette onto a plate full of hash browns. He shoos Barry to the table and sets the steaming plate in front of him. A nearly empty jar of salsa that Barry honestly doesn't recognize is sitting pointedly on the table.

"This looks amazing."

Len presses his lips together and shrugs, turning back to the skillet. It's buttery, rich, and full of onions, mild jalapenos, mushrooms, and spinach- hash browns crisp and golden brown.

"So good," Barry groans when he manages to pause. He's eaten all of it before Len finishes cooking his. "Hmm I was expecting that," Len says, and when he's done he slides it onto Barry's plate instead of his.

"No! I can't-" "Take it. There's more." Len's little smile has Barry's throat dry. He takes it, resting his hand over Len's on the plate. Looks directly into his eyes and says as sincerely as he can, "Thank you."

Len blinks, coughs into his hand, mumbles, "you're welcome," and cracks two more eggs into the bowl. Barry can see the tips of his ears burn red.

They'd eaten together countless before, but never like this. Food cooked by Len in his kitchen, sitting at Barry's funky little table. It's nice. Len reaches over to a pile of books, magazines and papers that had been pushed to the side and places Barry's cell phone in front of him.

"I texted the Wests."

How does Len know Iris and Joe? Len notices the confusion on his face. "You turned your phone off. Assumed they'd worry the way you looked. You wouldn't wake up."

Barry takes his cellphone back sheepishly and turns it on. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

There's an unread text from Joe. >Get some rest. Don't worry about work, you're on sick leave.

Before that >>At my apartment, gonna crash.

A text from Caitlin >I am your physician, shouldn't I be the first person to see you when you don't feel well?

from Dr. Wells >Feel better soon.

from Cisco >My mom makes killer habichuelas if ur interested. Don't let Caitlin make you feel bad we know u aren't rly sick.

A text from Iris reads >Told Caitlin and Cisco you weren't feeling good.

There are missed calls from Caitlin, Cisco and three from Len. Two days ago, 7:04pm. Two days ago, 3:02am. Yesterday, 8:00am.

Barry looks up at him. Len's frowning down at the pan he used muscles in his forearm flexing as he scrubbed. Feels guilty, but also very loved.

Barry walks over to Len, pulls one of his wet hands away from the sink and wraps an arm around him, presses their chests together, kisses the hard curve of his cheek bone.

"Thank you."

Len's eyes are wide, lips slightly parted. Barry can feel his eyelids lower. Len's so, so beautiful and he _likes_ Barry. Cares about him enough to come over and cook him food and make sure he's alright. Barry leans in slowly. Len doesn't move, but Barry can see his pupil dilate infinitesimally, feel his breath hitch, the muscles in his back relaxing. They kiss, soft and chaste and more intimate than any Barry has shared with another person.

Len pulls back, leaning on the sink, and drops his forehead to Barry's collarbones. The short bristles of his hair are surprisingly soft against Barry's neck.

"What happened?" Len's voice is a little raw.

Barry can't exactly say that he was at S.T.A.R. Labs trying to fight a vengeful metahuman as the Flash. But he did owe Len some kind of explanation after that awful voicemail.

"My dad- well." It wasn't something he was used to talking about. Most people already knew what had happened. "My mom was murdered when I was twelve."

Neither of them move, Len's hands just grip his hips a little tighter, no awful sympathetic expression, no platitudes.

"My dad was charged for it, but I saw it happen. A man with powers like the Flash did it. He left me in the street, but obviously no one believed me."

Len leans back and looks him in the eye, cocks his head, expression serious.

"Give me a month."

It takes Barry nearly half a minute to figure out what he's talking about. "What? No- we're working to get him exonerated!"

Now Len's starting to look confused. "I thought that's why you called me?"

Barry runs a hand over his face and paces away. "Ugh, no. I was just panicking. I- can't really talk about it."

Len's long fingers are white where they grip the sink behind him.

"That's okay."

It had been hard for Barry to reconcile Len and Leonard Snart. Barry _knows_ this man is a murderer, a thief, someone who endangered countless other people for fun, someone who was the Flash's enemy. But he also cares so much about his sister, about _Barry_ , came when he called and took care of him in a way that no one else could.

There was no possible way this could work out, but Barry wants to stay with Len. Wants Len to stay with him. It was almost funny that Len had thought he'd called him for his skills as a criminal. It was true in a way, but mostly painful because Barry wanted nothing less than to forget about that cruel inhumane part of him entirely.

They're both silent, sizing the other up. Len must recognize some of the conflict on Barry's face because he tenses up, facial expression blanking.

"Victor Hernandez," Barry starts, forcing himself to look the other man. The thought of the theater attendant that he was too slow to save keeps him up at night more that Danton Black or Farooq Gibran or _Tony Woodward_ or Bette and Leonard Snart doesn't even flinch.

Barry had forced himself to look over the files Joe had on him. He'd speed-read through them, dating back to before Barry was born, and most of the details had blurred by now. He remembers so many instances of threats of bodily harm (bank robberies), a brutal instance of unarmed battery from an informant, his _family history_.

"That was," Len pauses, his eyes drift to the side and his head tilts a little unconsciously, "a mistake." A muscle in his jaw ticks. "I got ahead of myself. Got caught up the game."

Barry feels sick.

"I have a policy. No cops, guards- no unnecessary casualties."

Barry mouths 'unnecessary'. (Isn't sure he wants to know how Leonard Snart defines unnecessary)

"Want me to leave?"

And how could Barry possibly justify having him stay? How could he even make Len, _Leonard Snart_ , want to?

Barry stalks forward. Len moves like he wants to step away, but Barry grabs a fistful of his shirt before he can. The way he kisses him is nothing like the one they'd shared earlier. Wet, aggressive and sexual. Len is still, but then responds with increasing urgency finger's grasping at his shoulders. Barry backs him to the couch and as he shoves him down, Barry notices how lost the older man looks. Almost frightened.

The anger that had been running through him drains, leaving an odd itch of resentment. Barry exhales through his nose. "Do you want to leave?"

The apprehension melts into something stubborn and challenging. Len smirks, and in that moment, the man lying vulnerable on his back in yesterday's clothes, dick pressing lightly against his slacks, the evil way his lips curl up, Barry can recognize Len- Leonard Snart- _Captain Cold _.__ He's not here for trouble or the Flash. He's here only for Barry Allen.

"No."

*

Barry feels... powerful. In control. His gut churns and the tension in the room turns to something heavier. He kneels on the bed, carefully watching Len watch him. He slides his shirt up, fingers running along his torso, old scrapes and scars taking new meaning with the what he's read- what he doesn't really have the right to know. Len's eyes are half lidded and completely focused on him, heartbeat loud but steady under his palm. Barry swallows and pulls the shirt over his head and arms, tossing it to the side. He runs his lips down Len's chest, scrapes his nails down his biceps, enjoys the shudder that runs through him. The sharp inhalation when Barry swirls his tongue over his nipple.

Barry undoes the button of his slacks, pulls down the zipper and ghosts his hand over Len's full erection, still covered by the soft cotton of his dark blue boxer briefs, before pulling his pants all the way off. Len's hands are gripping at the couch tightly, muscles flexing involuntarily, but he hasn't moved. Anticipation is bright in his dilated eyes.

Barry shifts forward so that one knee is between Len's legs, the other pressed against the side of the couch. He kisses him slow and sensual. Len's hips jerk up a little, rubbing through two layers of cloth. He presses a hand under Len's back, moving down to slip under the elastic waist of his briefs, and massaging the muscles of his ass.

Len is making soft throaty noises, and Barry knows he needs more, curses his lack of foresight and lube. Barry pulls back. There is something so special about seeing Len's face like this- open and wanting. His lips are swollen pink and slick with spit. Barry shifts their position so that Len is sitting properly on the coach, legs sprawled apart. Lets his reverent fingers caress his face, catch on his lips. Len moans out right, opens his mouth further, and Barry's heart kicks up. He leaves two resting lightly on Len's lower lip, cataloging the odd sensation of his bottom teeth, his tongue on the sensitive tips of his fingers.

He kneels, arm raised, and pulls down Len's briefs. In that moment, kneeling between his legs, fingers in his mouth, Len is looking down at him like he's the most important thing in the universe, completely, _willingly_ , at his mercy. Barry inhales shakily. Licks down his shaft and, after a slight pause, his balls. It's a musky, salty, human taste- not particularly pleasant, but not particularly _un_ pleasant. Barry had never done this without a condom before and the actual feeling and taste of skin was quite different from latex. He mouths around the head, feeling the contrasting texture from his foreskin, makes that funny face to keep his teeth out of the equation with the right amount of suction and bobs down. Len groans and Barry feels his fingers pulling a bit at his hair- he doesn't mind the sensation- and then Len is coming in his mouth hot, fast and salty.

Barry jerks his fingers out of Len's mouth, wrinkles his nose at the bitter taste and swallows, a little grossed out. He hadn't recognized that Len was trying to warn him. Barry looks up at him sheepishly- it's not like he could get or pass on STDs, but Len doesn't know that. He's sprawled back on the couch, eyes closed and boneless, covered in a light sheen of sweat, chest moving quickly with his open mouthed breath. Beautiful.

Len's eyes crack open. He raises an arm and it flops back down. "Shit," he groans, voice hoarse, "you want me to-?"

Barry grins, stands up and kisses the top of his head on a whim.

"I'm good."

Len catches his hand. His eyes are closed again, brow furrowed. "Will you stay?"

Barry presses a soft lingering kiss to his lips. "Just give me a minute."

It takes less than that to brush his teeth real quickly and bring Len a glass of water. For two grown men to fit on his couch they have to lie half on top of each other, but neither of them complain or suggest relocating to the slightly roomier bed. Its settles something in Barry's stomach to see Len relaxed and sated, to hold him in his arms.

*

They do move eventually, when Barry's arm is an ache of tingles and Len realizes that their skin peels apart from his dried sweat. Barry can't hide the laugh at his expression of disgust. He takes a shower and Barry lends him a pair of flannel pants that fit him fine, but Barry's shirt is tight on him. Even with Barry's new muscle mass, he still ran lean, and Len is a little thicker. For once, the thought raises foreign feelings of possessiveness instead of insecurity.

It's cold and wet outside, raining in a way that seems like it almost wants to turn into slushy hail. Len stays the entire day, cooking again for lunch and dinner, and fixes the apartment complex's washing machine with Barry's screw driver (the only tool he owns) and duct tape. In his apartment, Barry isn't the Flash and Len isn't a threat. With him there, Barry feels safe and calm in a way he hasn't the past three days.

"Who knew criminals made such good homemakers?" 

Len looks at him through corner of his eye, runs his fingers along the chipping white paint and scoops Barry onto the vibrating machine. He's fast enough that if Barry processed things like the average human being, he'd be gasping.  Len stands between his legs, leans in and whispers, "Who knew CSIs never wash their sheets?"  

He nips Barry's ear. Barry squawks and slams a palm to his chest. "I'm mortally wounded- will never walk again!"

Len quirks an eyebrow and obligingly turns around so Barry can jump on his back. He carries him all the way up the stairs to his apartment and drops him on the couch. He puts his broad palms on his lower back and stretches.  His cartilage pops audibly.

"Enjoy your deathbed."

When the sheets are back on the bed, Len pulls off the shirt Barry gave him.

It takes Barry a second to realize he's changing back into his newly washed clothes, getting ready to leave. Barry's stomach lurches unpleasantly.  He doesn't want to sleep alone, doesn't want to sleep without _Len_. Has the strange anxiety that if Len leaves, the next time Barry sees him with be on the wrong end of Cisco's thrice damned cold gun. 

He can't make it sound confident, but he does ask, "You could stay?"

Len puts the hands that were over his head, tangled in shirt sleeves, back down and smiles awkward, genuine, and beautiful.

"Yeah." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is not the highest functioning organ and I forgot to post the last chunk of this oops. Sorry!

Len stays.

It's nice, enclaved together, small space somehow feeling _less_ stifling with him there. It's odd, because just a few nights ago Barry was actually dreading going back to S.T.A.R. Labs and the precinct, but now that he has someone to miss at home he's looking forward to getting back to work. Barry may not feel ready to face the man in yellow, but he feels ready to move forward and prepare himself. He's not a helpless child anymore and he's going to protect Iris and Joe if it kills him.

His screen lights up with a text from Caitlin, giving him the all clear for coming in the next day.

Barry forcibly relaxes his shoulders and sinks back down into bed beside Len. The other man sighs in his sleep, rolls over and drapes an arm over Barry's waist. It was interesting- when Len initiated contact. He didn't seem to mind how frequently Barry did, but tended to only reached out for him in his sleep or after sex. Barry rolls to his side and Len pulls Barry's back to his chest, wraps his hand over Len's wrist and snuggles into a more comfortable position. Luxuriates in the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, secure in the knowledge he'd sleep without nightmares.

In the morning, for all his motivation the night before, Barry does not want to get out of bed. Len is tracing incomprehensible patterns along his back with his fingertips. They've both been awake in that interminable quality relaxed mornings have. Barry kisses his shoulder. It would be so easy to just let Len consume all his thoughts, forget about all his responsibilities and looming threats. Hold him and be held.

Barry has a lot to do.

"I have to go to work today," Barry tells Len, grumbling. Not really a lie, as what he did at S.T.A.R. Labs could be considered work. Len sighs long and drawn out. Rolls onto his stomach and looks at Barry through one eye.

"You know you can call me anytime," Len drawls into the pillow.

Barry frowns, thinking of the month after the Captain Cold debacle, how terrible he'd felt.

"You can call me. If you want. I'm not kicking you out," Barry says, stumbling around his phrases, trying to express himself, "I mean, I'm sure you want to get home."

Barry doesn't even know if he has a place. "Where do you live?" He winces, but Len looks amused.

"I'm staying in a place outside the city. I'd offer to take you there, but you might not get along with my roommate."

Barry bites his lip. "Are you busy? I mean, do you want to spend the night again?"

 

Cisco and Caitlin are happy see him. Unfortunately Caitlin expresses her joy through executive physicals. Iris, who was there before him is no help, the traitor. Dr. Wells seems to be in a bad mood, but isn't overtly angry. Makes a few pointed comments about priorities and rolls away to leave the youth to their shenanigans.

"Don't worry," Cisco says, "He's been grumpy for the past few days. I think he forgets sometimes that you have a life outside of the Flash."

Barry presses his lips together. Wells is right, he does need to be focused on getting faster. He and Iris share a look. She'd been right too, of course. Barry had a very dangerous tightrope to walk between preparation and paranoia.

It helps to be there. Saving people from burning buildings and returning stolen goods to grateful shop owners. Just the feeling of running, _running_ faster than what should be possible. Better than flying, when he stops Barry feels like his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

It's nice, having Iris there. Preening at her awe of his abilities. Watching Iris and Caitlin talk. They get along better than Barry would have thought, given how different the two of them are. Barry's glad he'd come clean to her.

In the spirit of reconnecting to the outside world, Barry makes plans to get lunch with Joe.

At the station Singh actually pats him on the shoulder and says, "You're never here when we need you, but when you get actual time off you show up? Good to see you feeling better, Allen."

Barry is in such a good mood he's not even offended by the none too gentle ribbing.

They go to a taqueria a few blocks down and sit at one of the little formica tables by the window to eat. Joe looks tired and stressed, but more at ease than when Barry had last seen him. It was unsettling to hear Joe talk about his fear of the man in yellow. Barry knew that Joe had his own fears and worries, but he tended to be so tightlipped about them it was easy to forget sometimes that they were there. Joe looks at Barry, assessing. "I never thought I'd be happy that he and Iris would make up."

Barry smiles. Joe leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised.

"So who is it?"

"Who's what?" Barry asks.

"The person that's distracted you from a decade long crush."

 It's strange because before that moment Barry hadn't considered it. Losing the omnipresent romantic longing he'd had since childhood. But he has. He still loves Iris, maybe still in love with her in that way people are infatuated with one another for being genuinely good people, but he doesn't want anything more than friendship and familial love. It's a moment of epiphany that should feel astronomical, should feel like love lost and missed opportunities, but all Barry feels is contentment. Despite everything that's been going on he's  _happy_.

Joe hit the nail on the head,and oh wow, he wants to talk about Len. Barry opens his mouth to say  _it's just a fling, nothing serious-_ because how could it last, whatever they were- but Barry wants it to. He's going to try for as long as he can. And part of doing that would be not telling Joe anything about him.

"What?" Barry finally responds, "There's no one! Who would I-? That's ridiculous."

Joe looks distinctly unimpressed.  "Uh huh."

Barry checks his phone to avoid looking at Joe across him. He'd missed a text from Iris.

 .

It doesn't feel real, being in Barry's apartment. Staying there at his request. Barry's body language, attitude, affection seeping out of him _towards Len_ doesn't feel real. Len knows Barry hasn't thought this through, that he already has problems with Len's history, hell, his _present_ , but somehow that just makes it so painfully real. It's almost impossible to tell when people are lying with their words, but body language is another story. Len is used to disappointing people, usually doesn't care, but he doesn't want to lose whatever inexplicable attraction Barry holds for him. There was no way this could end well, but Barry wasn't trying to play him. And while he could, Len would take advantage.

He looks up any references to strange blurs before the Flash's appearance, but is unsuccessful. He does find plenty of articles on the Allen murder. _Surgeon Stabs Wife_ , _Son Only Witnesses in Mariticide_ , _Child Traumatized at Bloody Crime Scene_. Nora Allen had died young, Henry's entire life imploding in one fell swoop. What exactly had happened that night and why? A man with powers like the Flash. Over a decade previously. He wants to sit Barry down and drill him. It's a mystery and Len as never liked those, not one that he doesn't have the means to solve, not ones that have a vague danger looming over someone he cares for.

Len stretches out on Barry's bed and rolls onto one side. He'd noticed the pictures there before, but they take a new solemnity knowing the history of the people captured. Looking at Barry today, it's hard to imagine what had happened to them in the intervening years. It's easy to believe Barry after seeing the Flash in action, up-close and personal- Len stops his train of thought. The Flash, no matter how alluring isn't a priority.

His childhood explained a lot of Barry's seemingly contradictory world views. Len isn't the kind of person to judge someone on their morals, but there's something very honorable in what Barry does. Finding real evidence- proof.

Len can still remember the day Barry saw him reading about the Flash, on what he now knew to his sister's blog. He'd been dismissive, irritaded and defensive. It's easy to imagine what it would be like- telling the truth and being called delusional or worse, a liar.

Next to the one of his blood is a newer picture of his sister beside detective West. They make a stunning family. Len had noticed clothing and other items around Barry's house indicating a female presence, had assumed his sister stayed there frequently. Len fleetingly wonders what, if anything at all, Barry has told her. Iris and Barry must be close for her to have latched onto the Flash with the tenacity she had. It made sense- get the Flash and get reasonable doubt.

Lisa calls. A key clunks around from outside the door, and Len curses himself for the dog like way his head shot up at the sound. The person in the doorway isn't Barry though. Considerably shorter, with darker coloring and much better dressed.

Len would like to think he would be good at meeting the family- he can be charming when the situation calls for it- but had Barry even told her they were together? _Were_ they together?

Iris' eyes are wide, clearly not expecting to see a strange man in her brothers apartment. Or maybe she'd recognized him from his mug shot. They stare at each other with twin deer in the headlight expressions on their faces. The woman recovers first, closing the door behind her, hanging her purse on the chair by the table like this was her home and he was an interloper. Something about it makes Len's stomach churn. She must not recognize him if she's willingly getting into a private place with him. Len hasn't moved from where he's standing by the couch, watching her BLAH.

It's illogical, but seeing her eyes narrow at him makes him question his life choices more than the idea of Barry disapproving. She, after all, has no reason to like him.

"Leonard Snart," she says- a statement, not a question. Len's back stiffens. He'd been wrong, but what had Barry told her?

"Ms. West. I'm a fan of your work."

She looks surprised, then murderous. "You're interested in the Flash."

"I have a feeling you already knew that, with the company you keep."

They eye each other, like animals in the wild. Iris blows a swift breath out of her nose before pulling out the chair and sitting down.

She looks back to him expression masked.

"Did you believe in him before your run in? Most people don't."

Len quirks an eyebrow. Takes the implicit invitation and moves to sit across from her. Suicidally brave must be a learned trait from Detective West. It's interesting, that two kids raised by a lawful cop made no attempts to call 911 in the presence of a criminal with multiple arrest warrants out for him.

"I'd heard rumors, but no. He didn't really hold my interest until I saw him myself."

"And Barry?"

"Are you asking my intentions?"

the mask breaks when she snorts, angry not amused. "No. I'm asking if you knew he was connected to the Flash."

Len's eyebrows raise to his hairline. He actually hadn't, not until Barry had told him what happened to his mother. He supposes Iris assumed he'd known that history before.

"I met Barry before I'd even heard of _the Flash_."

"And now-"

Her words are cut off by the door slamming open with a gust of wind. Barry is standing in the doorway looking panicked. His eyes run over the two of them sitting around his table, lingering on Iris hands, Len's vision of them blocked by the table. She presses her lips together and sets a bottle of pepper spray on the table with a thunk. Barry walks over to the couch without a word and drops onto it face first.

Len wants to look over at him, but is unwilling to move his attention from Iris, who's eyes are narrowed at him. She stands abruptly, chair squeaking on the floor, rests her hands on the table and leans over, too close.

"If anything happens to Barry, the police won't be trying to arrest you."

She doesn't say it hissed and dramatic like people tended to enjoy whispering threats, just low and matter of fact. Barry is definitely the kind of person that inspires love drawn loyalty. Message given, she leaves without a word to Barry.  

The subject in question has moved to a sitting position on the couch and he's watching Len with a caution in his posture and expression.

It's funny to find that Len really does not like the implication that he would put Barry in danger, that he  _is_ a danger to him. Iris' concern is completely warranted and logical, but for some reason it hurts. Looking at Barry wide eyed on the couch makes the feeling in his gut worsen. Len swallows, stands.  

"I have to go."

Barry squeezes his eyes shut, runs his hands over his face, and Len can't look away.

"I'm sorry," Barry's voice is small.

The automatic anger that his tone produces is a lot more comfortable the feeling it had replaced.

"For what?"

Barry looks up, stricken.  "I should have told her, she shouldn't have-"

. 

>Need to get my stuff from ur place. R u home?

Barry had given Iris his spare key the day he'd gotten his apartment. After reading the message, sent ten minutes before he saw it, Barry immediately raced back to his apartment. But he'd been too late. Iris was gone and Len was- 

"Shouldn't have what? Told the truth?" Len snorts, looking nothing like the kind man he'd spent the past fortnight with.

There's something clenching in Barry's stomach at the ugly expression on his face. He wants to get up off the couch, go over to Len and fix things, but he's scared. Not that Len will hit him, he's scared he'll hurt in ways that won't heal in an hour. That he's going to leave Barry with his heart torn and thoughts and hopes rotting slowly, _alone_. He doesn't move- just stares, helpless.

"I'm a bad guy." Len's voice comes out drawling, sardonic, like this is some kind of joke that Barry's at the butt of.

Barry can't say anything. Cold steps closer, so that he can trail his fingers over the back of the couch, a foot away from Barry. He smirks. "I'm the kind of criminal you _try_ to help lock away."

Barry's pumping heart turns the fear into something more volatile. He stands, one knee on the couch between them, fists clenching, face inches away from Len's. "

And why is that? You're so fucking smart that being a decent person is boring to you? I know there's good in you _Len_. You don't even need to hurt people to pull off your stupid heists, but you do it anyway. What, are you just lazy? Planning things better is just too _hard_?"

Len's face is a mask of irritation, beautiful eyes cold and hard. He scoffs. "No sense of self preservation."

"Maybe I just know you wouldn't hurt me."

It's not until the words are out of his mouth that Barry realizes he means them.

Len's face slips into something expressionless, his tense shoulders drop a little, his hand hovers over Barry's upper arm. "Naive or just stupid?" He whispers the words with out venom. Those blue eyes close and he pulls Barry closer, kisses him, soft and gentle. Barry tangles their fingers together. The moment stretches, expands, syrupy and warm until Len steps back. He looks lost, helpless in a way Barry remembers from those halcyon moments in the hotel room.

"I still need to leave."

Their hands are still entwined over the barrier between them and the words don't cut the way they did when they were spoken before. Barry's chest is settled, heart sure. He squeezes Len's hand, makes himself smile when he lets go.

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

It's really not a question but Len answers anyway. He nods, voice a little gravely, "Yeah."

He leans forward a bit, but seems to think better of it and walks out the door without another word.

Barry pulls out his cell phone and calls Iris, new faith that this could _work_ giving him courage. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris has a few minor crises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all Iris and not particularly relevant to the plot. I am sorry.

Growing up with just her dad for the majority of her years, Iris was raised to do _the right thing_. That was easy when she was younger- do what adults tell you to do, follow the rules, be kind- they all amounted to the same thing then. "Bad guys", people who broke the law existed only in abstract- the people who played the villain to her dad's hero. As she got older she understood things more concretely- that things weren't black and white, that good people did bad things and that those definitions were subjective. Still, Iris believed somethings were black and white, right and wrong. Law enforcement didn't always align with her beliefs (didn't even always align with her dad and other officer's beliefs she knew), but in some cases they did. Case in point: Murderers that slept with her brother one night and hurt him the next belonged in jail.

That Barry seems to genuinely like him makes it worse. Iris had put two and two together since Barry had told her about being the Flash. She knew the Len he'd talked to her about months before was Leonard Snart. Barry had never brought it up and Iris hadn't wanted to push. Now she regrets that decision. Seeing him in Barry's apartment had her gut drop suddenly, like a sinkhole.

Iris isn't narrow minded enough to think that criminals are caricatures without human emotions, or that Barry held no appeal aside from the Flash, but their interactions were too convenient a coincidence to ignore. Iris had always considered herself a good judge of character, but with everything she had missed this past year she wasn't about to relax just because the man had seemed honest when he'd denied knowing Barry's connection to the Flash. Even if it truly were a lucky coincidence at first, there was no way she could trust that a man with his history wouldn't take advantage after the fact.

Ever since she and Eddie got back together (they hadn't really split up), with the excitement of new friends (Cisco and especially Caitlin), and the contentment from getting along with her dad had her on cloud nine. In retrospect it was obvious that something more than the threat of the man in yellow had Barry's patterns changing. The idea of being best friends that told each other everything, the idea that _she_ was a trustworthy and honest person, had been something Iris had clung to past what was practical. She knows that no matter how angry she feels, there's no justification to take it out on Barry. Still, the idea of the one man with the real ability to hurt her best friend living and sleeping beside him made Iris' skin crawl. Regardless of whether it was deserved, Iris is mad _at Barry_. He'd kept this from her when Iris is the one thats supposed to research the people Barry involved himself with, to keep an eye out and destroy the pieces of shit that thought money could somehow compensate for the absolute gift of Barry's presence, physical intimacy that even she- and that's the moment Iris realizes. She's jealous of Leonard Snart

Iris hadn't answered Barry's call or anxious text because she didn't trust herself to handle the situation with any grace. Still, it would be cruel to put off the confrontation for to long. As if he could read her mind, Iris' phone vibrated with an incoming call. She picked it up on the third ring after a slow inhale.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Iris obeyed all the rules, listened to her dad and did what she knew the authority figures in her life wanted her to do. When Barry moved in with them, that changed. The first time Iris lied to her dad was so Barry could sneak off to see his father. She felt no guilt.

When Iris got her first boyfriend (a middle school affair with nothing real behind it), she kept it a secret. Not because it was important to her, but because it didn't really matter (they broke up less than a month after it started). Her first girlfriend was a different story. Iris had been nervous to the point of tears when she told her dad (Barry had known before, since the moments Iris recognized the first stirrings of a crush), but had never once considered keeping it a secret. Her dad had given her a book on sex ed. Despite the stereotype Joe had never been a strict parent, despite the occasional shenanigan she and Barry would get into he trusted them.

Iris can't help but think his trust may have been misplaced, because even though she knows Leonard Snart is a _bad_ person, she's started to consider that he might be the best person, the _only_ person able to protect Barry. Iris inhales, exhales, relaxes her shoulders. She's a mature adult capable of making responsible decisions and managing her feelings. She and Barry sit across from each other at the dinner table they grew up in, neither meeting the other's eyes.

"I'm supposed to have your back."

And that wasn't what she wanted to lead with. 'Everything with your powers, with Leonard Snart, don't you trust me?' she bites her tongue before the words spill out because Barry already looks guilty and the _wasn't_ what she wanted, using tactics just like her dad. She desperately wants to ask him a thousand questions, but can't trust herself not to start a fight that would only hurt them both.

"I like him."

The words come out small, like they're something Iris will mock Barry for. Iris' chest tightens. Barry never had any of Iris' fumbling adolescent romances, she hadn't even thought he was interested in something like that at all.

"I'm not trying to judge you," Iris says- it's true, but she leaves out that she might not be succeeding, "Do you trust him?"

Barry gives her a sharp look, like it's a trick question.

"Yes." He says it confidently, defiantly. Iris raises her hands and Barry deflates. There's an awkward silence.

"He loves his sister," Barry blurts out. "He tips really generously, for _everyone_ -" Iris thinks of the 500$ Tony Woodward put in the tip jar and her crushed phone, Barry's still talking- "He's an amazing cook, and he doesn't _expect_ anything from me, he _believed_ me about my dad. Iris, he _likes_ me." Barry's are bright, he looks a little awed, and yes that is jealousy that she's feeling. Iris swallows it down.

"He might actually be the best person for you to be around."

She takes a breath. "With the yellow man-" "No."

Barry's mouth is tight, resolute. A thrill of apprehension runs through Iris and for the first time, she truly understands where her dad was coming from with Eddie. Criminals in Snart's line of work didn't have any greater a life expectancy than the people on the other side of the law, and Barry so obviously _cares_. Iris compartmentalizes the thoughts for later and stands. Barry mirrors her and they hug, both ignoring the other's obvious emotions for the moment.

"Take care of yourself. Please, Barry?"

He squeezes her tighter. "I will."

"I'm going to head over to Eddie's," Iris mumbles into Barry's chest.

Barry pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. It feels oddly significant. "Okay, I love you."

Iris wills some of her worry away and smiles back. "I love you too, Bear."

She sleeps fitfully, but lying next to Eddie, reveling in having his full range of motion back, takes the frustration out of her. When she first met him, Iris hadn't thought very highly of Eddie. He was handsome of course, but Iris had been more irritated than anything else by that. He'd seemed too serious, a little too desperate to prove himself to her father. That was before she learned how truly kind he was. He's not just passingly handsome now. Iris loves every line of his face, the pale scars along his hips and thighs, the way her heart jumps when he smiles. She's never felt this way about anyone before.

"What?" Eddie asks, voice sleep rough.

"I love you."

Eddie's face grows softer, looking at her like she's something amazing.

"I love you too," Eddie murmurs, leaning in to kiss her, so tenderly. Iris hadn't even known she'd wanted this until it happened. She wasn't going to mess it up.

So when she sees the notifications of Barry's latest save (a riot at a bank?) she keeps her mouth shut and texts Caitlin. It had been a long time since Iris had a friend she liked as much as her. Eddie runs off to work and Iris tries to forget that her dad tangentially effected her sex life.

Barry is sitting at her dad's desk when she gets to the station, frowning at Captain Singh's office. His mood is lighter than last night despite the news he tells her.

"I think Eddie is trying to convince the captain that the Flash is a public menace."

Iris wants to bang her head against a wall. Eddie walks out of the office before she can process it more than that.

"You're trying to have the Flash arrested?" Eddie looks alarmed. "What the hell?"

"Thanks Barry," Eddie deadpans, not looking her in the eye.Iris kind of wants to punch his beautiful face.

"Sorry," Barry says sheepishly.

"No worries, the Captain shot me down. Look, I'm not feeling like lunch," Iris' stomach sinks, "See you later." And Eddies gone.

"It's not like he could ever catch me," Barry says, swiveling the chair his in. Iris rolls her eyes.

Her dad comes out of the office next with the same expression he used to wear when confronting her childhood antics. It takes some of the sting out of Eddie's rejection.

"Barry, you need to get to STAR labs."

"Wana come with?"

As cool as it is to be on the inside of everything happening at STAR labs, Dr. Wells continued to make her uncomfortable. Luckily Caitlin is back before he go into a further rhapsodizing speech about anger. The brain screen brings up memories of old lectures.

"So, he's using some kind of stimulant and disinhibitor?"

"So how do you think he does it to them?"

"Before all of this I'd say drugs in the water," Iris says, leaning over Caitlin to get a better view of the screen. A message pops up in the corner of the screen.

"Booyah!" Cisco pumps a fist. "Trackers pinging on the 1600 block of pass."

A gust of air rushes through the room and flings Caitlin's hair into Iris' face. She tucks it behind her ear.

"He does that all the time, doesn't he?"

It's a little nerve wracking knowing that Barry and her dad are facing off someone with mind control powers, but no one else seems overly worried. Sure enough, her dad comes by not twenty minutes later perfectly fine. Iris frowns.

"What happened? Where's Barry?"

He scowls. "Barry's fine. Before that," he turns to Wells, "Certo said he saw this guys flash red before he got whammied. Started shooting at me. Said, 'You don't tell me what to do'."

"Well, technically, you are his boss-" Caitlin puts a hand over Cisco's mouth.

"Sounds like color psychology on steroids," Iris says.

Caitlin's eyes light up. "Inducing rage through the ocular nerve!"

Iris can't help smiling back at her excitement.

"What do you guys know about the Starling city vigilante?"

Iris raises her eyebrows. "Aside from Barry's raging man crush on the guy?"

Joe runs a hand over his face.

"He's totally badass," Cisco contributes.

"We worked with one of his partners before," Caitlin says, "Felicity is really nice."

"Felicity works with the Arrow?"

Joe rolls his eyes and walks over to Dr. Wells.

 

It's very strange hearing about the Captain Cold debacle again after just meeting the man in Barry's apartment.

Barry groping Felicity is over kill as a distraction. Oh wow. Iris averts her gaze to the ceiling. She wouldn't be forgetting this either. Hearing Barry and Felicity babble simultaneously is raising all kinds of uncomfortable questions about Iris' psyche.

"You guys think of anything new with our meta?"

 

Of course, during the midst of her sexual and emotional crisis Oliver Queen walks into Jitters, with the catalyst of her recent revelations.

"You didn't tell me you know Oliver Queen."

"I know Oliver Queen."

"He's the Arrow isn't he?" The obvious realization snaps Iris out of her daydreaming.

" _No_?"

Oliver Queen and the Arrow turn out to be kind of a jerk, but Iris applies the same logic she's been trying to do with Leonard Snart- they'd both help protect Barry.

"I'll be fine on my own."

Iris frowns. "Maybe, but it would be stupid to ignore a way of staying safer. I thought you didn't think shooting people made someone untrustworthy?"

Barry looks starts to storm off before he deflate.

"Fine."

So Bivolo ends up in the pipeline, a  _private,_   _untrialled_ prison, and her boyfriend is officially working on a taskforce to take them down, and the biggest question in Iris' head is if she was only attracted to Felicity because she was so similar to her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT Iris/Barry. Also, did Singh approve the task force because Barry stole his sandwich?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna go back and edit this shit before I finish the _last chapter_ :)

The decision to stay in Central City for Christmas is an easy one, even if it doesn't make his parents happy. It had been around this time last year that he had started dating Iris and he was looking forward to dinner with both of the Wests and Barry.

He and Iris had beat the subject of the Flash and his task force to death and their agreement was a simple one- neither of them wanted it to effect their relationship, so they weren't going to let it. Iris has been upset about something though, it's easy to tell, Iris having stayed over for over a week in a row. Eddie knows her too well by now to think its about the task force, she's not passive enough to go along with something she strongly disagrees with. Since all the crazy things that have been happening make Eddie more and more sure he wants to spend the rest of his life with her, he starts the conversation.

"You know, I've been thinking, _a lot_ about what you told me. I know I get called in a lot an you- I mean, I think- if you're still _interested_ in Felicity."

Iris' eyes widen with understanding. "Oh! You'd be okay with me dating other people?"

Eddie swallows back the instinctive sense of wrongness. "You've just seemed kind of down lately and-"

Iris' slack mouth turns down and she cuts him off. "I don't want you agreeing to something out of guilt Eddie. I haven't been upset because of that." She looks a little angry, but Eddie gets the feeling its more self directed.

He sighs and decides to bite the bullet. "Actually, there's someone I've maybe been kind of interested in?"

And contrary to all previous advice about relationships, Iris' face lights up.

"Really? Is it someone I know?"

Eddie knows he looks guilty and Iris' happy expression fixes, then turns ill. "Oh god. It's my dad isn't it."

"No!" He winces.

"It's Barry."  Was having a crush on her step brother better? He was like a gay- bisexual?- cliche.

Iris puts her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. When Eddie realizes she's laughing, not crying, he's not sure it's a better reaction.

Iris gasps out, "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you." She takes a few deep breaths, hysterical laughter calming down into quiet giggles.

"It just- seems like Barry's irresistible."

Eddie lets the confusion show on his face.

"Sorry. Just. I've been trying to figure out how to talk to you about this, actually. So. I wasn't lying when I told you I wasn't interested in Barry like that,  _before_."

"Wait. You and Barry?"

Iris' lips twist. "That, you _were_ wrong about."

Eddie lets it drop for a second, feeling a bit poleaxed. Maybe laughter really is contagious, because he can feel it building up in his throat.

"Is this a common thing, with polyamory?"

Iris shakes her head. "I'm really not an expert. Anyway, all I know is I want to be with you."

Eddie's chest feels light. He puts his hand over hers. "I feel the same way."

And when their eyes meet they both burst into laughter.

.

"How's your boyfriend?"

Mick has not taken being cooped up well, and the promise of excitement was losing it's pull. Len waves a hand, focused on the new article Iris West has penned- typed- _Superhero Teamup?_ Apparently the Starling City had made an appearance in his city. Something about it rankles a bit and Len can feel the same tone in Iris' article. The Flash was one thing, something _thrilling_ Len doesn't think, but the Arrow was something else, something dangerous and authoritarian. Stealing from the rich was fine, but pulling some moralistic crap like it was justice was a step too far, particularly when the man was stealing from his own social strata. Oliver Queen is not as clever as he thinks.

"Fine," he remembers to answer.

Mick snorts. "It's not like you to be so distracted."

Len glares. "I'm not _distracted_. I'm being thorough."

It's only a partial lie. Len has been distracting himself from the desire to call Barry.

He hadn't believe his luck when he found someone like Barry willing to warm his bed. When Barry asked him to actually _be_ in a relationship, he known it was too good to be true before the chips fell. Could anyone blame him for trying to prolong the minuscule amount of hope he has that Barry actually wants him too?

There's plenty to distract himself with. Barry's tangential connection to the Flash complicated things, but Len was smart enough to get one up on the Flash and get more information about the other man with the same powers. There was little doubt that Barry or at least his sister mixed social groups with the Flash. The leverage may turn out unnecessary, but it was still good to get as far into the background of the remaining STAR labs employee's backgrounds as possible. It was unfortunate they were connected with a hacker on Felicity Smoke's level. He would have loved to get a look at the specs for the particle accelerator that had started the entire glorious mess.

"Then when are you going to put this plan of yours in action. I'm getting tired of waiting."

Mick has actually been extraordinarily patient considering his general temperament. Len sighs and shuts his laptop. "After Christmas, my sister's getting nostalgic."

His phone vibrates in his pocket. "Speak of the devil."

Mick snorts and grabs his wallet. "Want anything from the store?"

"I'm good."

The caller ID is flashing Barry's name.

Len feels like his heart is trying to simultaneously rise to the ceiling and sink into the ground. Maybe he shouldn't have that beer after all. He swallows nausea down feeling absolutely pathetic and answers the call.

"Hi." Len clears his throat.

"Hi, this is Barry, oh cell phone, you probly already knew that, uh. How are you?"

An unconscious smile pulls at Len's lips. Barry's voice is too happy for this to be a 'we need to talk' type conversation. "I'm good. Glad you called."

He can hear Barry breathe against the receiver before he answers, and somehow that is endearing. "I meant to call sooner, but I got caught up in- work."

Work at the police station. With his detective father, who was also the father of Iris who recently discovered his relationship with her brother. He swallows.

"Is everything okay with your sister?"

The idea that he could have negatively impacted the other relationships in Barry's life was not a good one. "You mean Iris?" There's a soft thumping sound that comes through the line. "We talked thing through. She's cool with it- I mean not _cool_ with it, but. Um. She's not going to tell Joe or the police or anything like that."

Len frowns. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah." Barry chuckles. "There's probably nothing I could do that would stop Iris from being my best friend."

"Good. Do you have any Christmas plans?" Len's shoulders relax.

"Same as always. Visiting my dad," Barry's voice is low and relaxed, "Doing a tree and dinner at the West's. Joe'll probly get called in." He snorts "How about you?"

Len's stomach feels warm. "I'll be with Lisa."

"That's great," and Barry sounds genuinely happy for him, "How is she?"

Len smiles. "She's good." He pauses. "She wasn't for a for a long time, but she is now."

"I'm glad to hear that."

It's all trite overused syllables, but hearing them from Barry's mouth feels like a relief.

"Are you in Central City? For completely nonprofessional personal reasons."

"I'm close to town. Why?"

"Are you free tomorrow? It's my day off."

"Yeah, I could be. Want me to come over?"

"Could you maybe meet me at the pier? At 11?"

"Sure. See you then."

Neither of them hang up. Len can hear Barry's breath softly through the receiver. The sound of Mick's engine filters through the door way. He has to unstick his throat to murmur, "Have a good night, Barry."

"You too."

Mick raises an eyebrow at Len's expression and hands him a beer.

 

Barry's never been in a relationship before so he can't be blamed for his bad decisions. Especially when the man he's trying to date is a wanted criminal, and therefore can't be discussed with friends. Cisco squints at him from across the table at Jitters.

"Dude, are you constipated?"

Barry drops his face into his hands and groans. "No. I have a date."

Cisco grins at him and punches his arm.

"Come on, that's awesome! Are you nervous because it's the first girl you've been with since the accident?"

Barry keeps his face hidden and mumbles, "Guy. And more like _ever_."

Well his first date anyway.

"No shit? Well, still- the hardest part is getting their number right?"

Barry drops his hands to give Cisco a blank look. He raises his hands in the surrender position.

"I don't know, man. I have terrible luck with girls _and_ guys, but hey, you're a superhero! Don't they get all the girls? Or get them all killed."

"Please stop talking."

Whatever Iris said, Barry was keeping Len as far away from anything involving the Flash or dangerous metahumans as possible, freeze gun or no.

"Sorry. When are you guys meeting?"

"This morning."

Cisco shoots a skeptical glance at the clock. "Well you do have super speed."

 

Barry slows down to a jog when he sees Len standing next to the guard rail. His eyes are fixed on a seagull tearing apart something indiscernible in the water, the same blue grey color as the sky. He looks very soft with a knit hat, scarf and peacoat. Barry smiles at the view.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Len looks up at the sound of his voice and smiles back. "It's cool."

Barry feels a little flat footed to be here with this beautiful man, but he valiantly tries to hide it. "Wana go for a walk?" he twists his shoulder to show off the bag on his back. "I brought lunch."

The path along the ocean, inclining up a cliff, is a little muddy with mid winter moisture. Barry frowns. "I'm glad you're wearing boots, sorry I didn't warn you."

Len stops walking and appraises him. He smirks. "Looks like you were the one that came unprepared."

Barry's chagrined frown turns into an indignant scowl. He's wearing tennishoes and a light jacket, having forgotten his heavier coat at the coffee shop. "I run warm," he lies.

Len takes a step closer and unloops the scarf around his neck. He wraps it around Barry, still warm from his body heat. Barry's heart kicks up a beat.

 

Len leans in further, their faces even, soft blue eyes focused on him. "Your nose is red," he murmurs and kisses him, warm and soft, before entangling his fingers with Barry's and pulling him back up the path. Barry is pretty sure his entire face is red now, and it's not from the cold.

The little field in the protected alcove at the top of the cliff is covered in wet, dead grass so Barry lays out a tarp for them to sit on. He brought sandwiches- he's no professional chef- and cider.

"Sorry I didn't bring any alcohol."

Len smiles and shakes his head. "Guess I have to eat my words, you did come prepared."

Barry bumps their shoulders together and stays pressed up against Len, enjoying the heat radiating from him. Len slips his hat over Barry's head and wraps an arm around him, ignoring Barry's weak protests.

"I like the cold."

They're mostly protected from the breeze, but it's easy to see the wind whipping up busy whitecaps in the ocean. Len's chest is warm and firm against him and Barry is full and so incredibly content that it's hard to imagine feeling bad.

"I never knew this place existed." Len sounds a little awed, voice vibrating against him. Barry can feel his heart beating, steady and even. He lets himself slip, face pressing against Len's chest.

"My parents used to take me here. When I was little."

Len's arm tightens around him.

"Thank you."

.

It had been funny at first, seeing his ancestor and _Iris West_ in a fledgling relationship doomed to fail. It hadn't been funny when Leonard Snart ended up an Barry Allen's apartment. Eobard Thawn curls his lip. The Flash, brought low by a common criminal. The key to his return home distracted, stagnant, and useless. It was pathetic. Confronted by the man that had shaped his entire life and the great Scarlet Speedster did _nothing_. Well, maybe just hearing about him wasn't enough. It was about time they met face to face, or not as it were.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was waiting to post this until I had the other version of the chapter done as well (much heavier on the angst), but that appears to be slow going :( c'est la vie, here's this.

Christmas has always been Iris' favorite time of the year. It was their first Christmas spent together that Barry really came to terms with being part of their family. They'd fallen asleep together on the couch, little sips of eggnog burning in their stomachs. So it's with a very strong determination not to let her feelings, or the interesting places her conversation had gone with Eddie, effect the holidays.

It still takes Iris' breath away, to see Barry moving faster than her brain can comprehend.

"Okay, the only red-suited dude I want in this house right now is Kris Kringle, you got it?"

Iris swallows, joining her dad by the couch. "Yeah, what makes the tree so satisfying is the _time_ and effort we need to put in on it."

She nudges Barry's shoulder, hands him one of the cups of eggnog.

"No cheating."

The usual Christmas traditions seem to be well underway, with her dad getting called off for work, but Barry seems to be doing his best to make Iris lose her resolve. Her mother's wedding ring, the one thing she had to remember her by, when her childhood memories had faded completely.

When Eddie comes in she pulls herself back together. Some things were different, but her relationship with Barry  _wasn't_.  He'd always been an incredibly caring friend.

"That's very thoughtful, Bear."

 

"He gave you a _wedding band_." Eddie's eyes are lit up.

Iris rolls her eyes, trying to disguise the twinge in her belly. "He was he wasn't proposing to me. Eddie, he's only been interested in one person in his entire life- his _boyfriend_. And I know that because he and I are just best friends."

Eddie looks at her with a soft expression.  "I just can't really see how someone couldn't be in love with you." He pulls a small box out of his pocket. "I know it's a bit early, but I couldn't wait. I figured we've been together a year now."

Iris opens the box, heart in her throat.

"You pretty much stay there most nights anyway."

"I love you."

 

Iris feels like she's on cloud nine. Winter is always a busy time at Jitter's, but Iris lets her good cheer spread, brushing off the incorrigible bad moods and enjoying the smiles she gets in return.  How could she be sad about a friend not feeling the same way when she was mutually in love with an amazing man?

"Iris."

Iris doesn't think she's ever seen Caitlin look so fragile, and although stranger's misery couldn't put a dent in her happiness, a friend was another story.

"Caitlin. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, it's been a long day."

"It's only noon."

"I didn't sleep much last night."

"Yeah, me either." Iris had been too elated, but she has a feeling that wasn't Caitlin's problem. "Are you okay?"

Caitlin bites her lips. "Um, so you've written about a man whose head and hands burst into flames?"

"The burning man?" Iris frowns. She hadn't found anything indicating that he was involved in any criminal activity. "I haven't really updated that story in a while, but there are some reports that I could send you. Did Barry have a run in with him?"

Caitlin flinches, looking nervous. Iris' chest tightens. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She shakes her head. "I'm going to take my break now. Do you really want coffee?"

Caitlin's shoulders are tense. "I'd love an americano."

 

.

Barry knows what happened at Mercury Labs. He knows it the second his eyes scan the room brain processing information quicker than any computer. His good mood crumples the next leaving him to the cold grip of anxiety. Joe is looking at him with concern, but Eddie clarifies before Barry has to.

"Are you alright, Barry?"

Barry blinks. He's leaning on a desk near the entrance of the police station, Dr. Wells sitting next to him.

The man in yellow is back.

"Yeah. Fine."

Dr. Well's eyes are compassionate and searching. "It would be alright if you weren't. It's a lot to handle."

Barry squeezes his eyes shut. He should be ready for this. He'd had time. Time he'd managed to waste even with super speed. Hours spent just lying around with a man he'd known for less than half a year, knowing that the man in yellow was in his city, had threatened his best friend.

"I'm fine."

Barry forces himself to concentrate on Dr. McGee, but Dr. Wells ends up doing all the talking anyway. Barry forces deep breathes in and out, in time with Dr, Well's, not letting time slow. They could get a judge to sign a warrant, the plan would still work.

 

Barry's mom was the most important person in Barry's life. Of course he'd loved his dad, but his mom. His mom was his _world_. He'd been powerless then, powerless to save his mom. He'd worked every second after to be able to save his dad. What the hell had he been doing the past two weeks?

How could he be so arrogant?

_Guys like us don't get the girl._

Oliver had been right. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

"Barry." Iris is standing in the doorway. "I called your name, like-" she sees the board in front of him, all of it worthless. "Your mom's case."

"I used to study this board every day. Lately, I haven't looked at it as much as I should have."

"I didn't know you did that."

"I guess there's still some stuff about me you don't know."

His sexuality, that he'd been in love with her for more than half his life, that he was having a crisis because the man in yellow was back _again_. Iris looks nervous, but happy. His gut twists. He and Joe had agreed to keep her out of this.

"Eddie asked me to move in with him. I said yes."

"Wow." And Barry never thought he'd be able to hear something like that with no feeling, but here he is, numb. "You guys are moving pretty fast, huh?"

"Well, I mean, it's been a year." Iris takes a deep breath.

"I know you're with someone else right now." Barry flinches. "I'm not trying to mess that up, but I need to be honest with you."

Oh god.

"I love you."

Barry's shoulders relax, a warm feeling replacing the rising panic. It's one of the reasons he thought he'd always be hopelessly in love with her, the way she could soothe his most desperate moods. Even when she didn't know all the details.

"I love you too, Iris."

Iris shakes her head, eyes a little sad, and the panic started to rise again.

"No, I'm _in love_ with you."

His head spins. Iris was in love with Eddie, he'd agonized so long before accepting it. Wasted so much time over a hopeless crush on her her before he wasted even more time falling for someone else. Barry's eyes flick to the board, his failures physically manifested.

The anger comes suddenly, mostly self directed, but a small part for one of the most important people in his life.

Why would she say this now?

Barry runs his hands down his face. "Iris. I can't- not now."

He can't bring himself to look at her, attention drawn to the window in avoidance more than any sense of danger- and there he is. His childhood nightmare brought to life once more.

The world around them slows, stops existing. Two streaks crackling across the earth, the scene of the crime fifteen years later, everything else gone forever. And just like then Barry is left, alone.

 

"This man stabbed my mother through the heart and sent my father to prison for it. This is my fight."

"Not today, son."

 

Barry has visited his dad every Christmas since he was incarcerated. That first awful, lonely one, he'd given Joe the slip- with Iris' help- to get there. The guards had taken pity on him, and after calling an irate Joe, he got his wish. It feels so wrong to be there now, with the man in yellow in his city because _he_ was too weak to stop him, Caitlin, Cisco, Wells, Joe and even Eddie there to trap him, and Barry was here. Because his mother's killer is still free and his dad is still charged with the crime. 

"Merry Christmas, Slugger."

"Merry Christmas."

"You all right, Barry?"

He didn't deserve his fathers concern.

"I screwed up, dad. After years of searching I finally found him. I found the man who killed mom- the man in yellow, the one in the lightning. He's out there, and I had him. He got away. I-"... I was so close. I promised you that I would get you out of here. Every day you spend in here has been because of him... Until today. Now you're in here because of me, and I'm so sorry." Barry swallows, braces himself. "I met someone. I wasted so much time-"

"Barry. Barry, this is not your fault. Look at me. I know what you've given up. Every decision you've made in the past 14 years has been because of me and your mom... what you studied, why you became a CSI, even with Iris."

"Iris?"

"You're my son. You don't think I know how you love her? But you never pursued her because you were too consumed with what happened to me and your mom to let yourself have a life. And if you met someone that got through to you, then I'm _glad_. The man in the yellow suit... Has taken enough from us already. Don't let him take any more."

They are hard words to accept, but this was his  _Dad_ so Barry would do his best.

 

"Hey."

The Christmas lights are all plugged in, bathing Iris in a soft glow.

She turns to him with a blinding grin. "Just in time. I am almost done."

The skin around her eyes is pink and irritated. "Are there awards for tree trimming? Because this is award-worthy."

"Iris." Barry's throat cracks. "I'm so sorry."

Iris scowls at him. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Barry sits down on the couch, gathers his courage.

"When we were kids, I loved you before I even knew what the word 'love' meant. And then my mom died, and I had to go live with the girl that I had a crush on. I thought I was going to be in love with you for the rest of my life and that you'd never want me back because- I, uh, this might sound kind of stupid. I'm not interested in sex. I mean, I'm not _physically_ attracted to people." There's a furrow between Iris eyebrows and the same old fear comes up, of her not understanding. "I wanted to wake up next to you every morning, bring you flowers, kiss you, have a _family_ -" Iris is crying. Barry swallows, forcing himself to continue. "After I lost my mom and my dad, I was afraid that if you didn't feel the same way, I would lose you, too. That's the irony. Iris you're my best friend."

Iris grabs his hand, clears her throat. "We'll be okay. I promised to always have your back, didn't I?"

 

Caitlin's SOS seems inevitable, and two good men are dead, but somehow Dr. Wells, who'd been trapped with the man- _Reverse Flash-_ makes it out okay and Eddie and Joe are unharmed.

With Eddie and Iris, Caitlin, Cisco, and Joe in the same room, Barry feels the terror and anxiety slowly sink down, something warmer rise up. Iris smiles at him from her seat on Eddie's lap, tired but genuine. She has a hand on Caitlin's shoulder. Eddie squeezes her closer smiling at Barry, too, before he kisses her cheek. And Barry is going to have to ask her what's going on there another time. Everyone gives him a hug before he leaves and no one mentions that his eyes are a little wet.

When he gets back to his apartment, Barry stretches his arms up as far as he can, lets the exhaustion in his bones sink in. He takes a hot shower, relaxes muscles that have been tense for too long. Barry hadn't let himself ruminate on his feelings for Len before, for so many reasons, but after talking to his dad and Iris, it's to obvious to ignore. Len picks up on the third ring.

.

7elevens don't close, even on Christmas Eve. and cashier doesn't bat an eye at the two customers buying cheap ice cream in formal black attire. The air is cold and dry outside, streets as empty as they ever get. The cemetery is less than five minutes away. A few of the gravestones have flowers and other tokens in front of them, fresh and vibrant, the rest forgotten. Bittersweet is such a funny feeling, like picking off a scab that isn't quite healed yet.

"When's the last time you visited?" Lisa's voice is quiet, but it still makes Len flinch at the sudden noise.

"Three years ago. You?"

Lisa is staring at the headstone.

"Nine." She huffs out a cloud of warm breath. "I was so ashamed."

Len switches his bag to his other hand.

"He wouldn't have judged you."

Lisa takes his hand.

"I think I'm ready to come back."

For a long time, Len has been terrified of those words coming out of her mouth, of dealing with out of control emotions and panic. But Lisa has been doing better for years, and he isn't so entwined in her life anymore. Honesty is always a clean feeling.

"Good."

They go back to one of Len's safehouses, and something squishy and anticipatory rolls around his stomach as he opens the door. Lisa's face goes slack and then she burst out laughing. The entryway is covered in holly and glittering gold and crystalline ornaments. The centerpiece on the table is a four foot solid gold tree.

There's a healthy flush on her face, eyes sparkling with delight.

"When did you get this?" she sounds a little awed and Len puffs out his chest, just a little.

"A little less than four years ago." Pulling heists was rarely about what he was stealing- valuables or money- and over his career had become more and more about the thrill, and habit. Seeing Lisa's sheer joy, brought him back to when he first started stealing stuff apart from his dad. Spoiling Lisa with all the things she'd been without before. Things had turned rotten quickly, but the warm feeling in his stomach, from providing, had been worth it.

Lisa's smile turns impish. "I have a surprise for you too."

The ornament she pulls out from her pocket glitters with white silver and red, two rings orbiting around a sparkling sphere.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Satisfaction oozes around her. "What, you didn't think I spent _all_ my time driving shit around for other people."

"You know I didn't need you to prove yourself to me. If you wanted to start pulling heists together all you had to do was ask."

Lisa grins. "Who needs nepotism when you've got skill?"

 

The night is nice, nicer honestly than anything he ever thought they'd get. When Barry calls, Lisa is snoring lightly on the couch. He closes the door with a soft click before he answers.

"Hello Barry."

"Hi Len. Merry Christmas." Barry's voice is low and a little slurred. Len's brow furrows.

"Are you drunk?"

He can hear Barry yawn, then clear his throat.

"Oh, sorry. No, I'm just tired. Can't do that anymore," his voice fades into a mumble.

It feels good, that Barry cared enough to call instead of fall asleep straight away. 

"Do you need to go to sleep?"

"No, I wanted to hear your voice. Are you still with Lisa? am I interrupting?" Barry says it like it's something normal, like of course someone would call just to hear him talk.

"Not at all." If Len's voice is a little rough it's because he's trying to keep it quiet- to not wake his sister up.

"Did you guys have a good day?"

"Yeah, we did. Visited our grandpa, his grave."

Barry makes a pleased sound in his throat.

"I saw m'dad t'day." Barry's words come out slow and garbled between pauses. 

"T'ld'm ab't you."

Len can barely decipher the words, but when he does his heart kicks up a beat. Barry doesn't extrapolate and there's a heavy moment of silence. It feels significant, this night, this conversation.

"I've been thinking about what you said."

Barry's response is just a sleepy murmur and that gives Len the courage to continue.

"About a code of sorts. Killing, it's gotten too easy for me." Len snorts. "In more than one way. Maybe I don't have to be that kind of person anymore."

The only sound from the phone is soft easy breathing. Len runs a hand over his face.

Whispers, "Goodnight, Barry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this! Thanks for reading, and the support, I'm really stoked that I got to share this and people _got something out of it_ :) There is a continuation in my head, but that may take a while to translate into a word document lol.


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